


the ultimate collection of prettyboy-parker's works

by prettyboy_parker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Daddy Kink, Emotional Abuse, Lots of it, M/M, Mafia AU, Multi, Physical Abuse, Superior Iron Man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 47
Words: 65,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboy_parker/pseuds/prettyboy_parker
Summary: this is, by far, everything that i have ever written regarding marvel. (mostly for if my tumblr gets deactivated)





	1. winterspider; fighter!bucky x softfem!peter

breaking the first rule of fight club

winterspider; fighter!bucky x softfem!peter

so I read a fic a while ago where Bucky was a fighter/boxer and I can’t remember for the life of me who wrote it. 

The little breaks in italics are text convos between the two.

Even though he grew up in Queens, Peter’s never been much of a fighter. He’s never even _liked_ fights. Whenever a fight would break out in his high school, he would look the other way in fear, much to the amusement of Flash.

So he doesn’t really know how he ended up here.

_Here _being some totally illegal underground fighting ring, perched prettily on the bleachers next to his best friend MJ.

Earlier, MJ had pleaded Peter to come with her to watch her new girlfriend fight. (She must be pretty smitten with the girl if she wants to go all the way to Brooklyn to watch her beat another girl up in a sports bra.) Peter thought MJ knew him well enough, but that seems unlikely because Peter would never _willingly _sit in on a fight.

But because he’s the number one friend in the entire world, he agreed. Chances are that MJ and this girl (he can’t even remember her name, but it was something stupid, like Cilantro) will be done by the end of the week.

So, he decided to suck it up and watch this girl fight, squished between MJ and some burly guy who smells like Beef Jerky.

“Isn’t this so _cool_, Pete?” MJ whispers in his ear, barely heard over the shouts of the crowd.

“Yeah. So cool.” He says, studying his manicured nails in boredom.

“You’re no fun.” MJ huffs, turning her attention back to the fight.

Turns out MJ’s girlfriend wins, albeit with a split lip and bloody nose.

MJ tells him she’s going to congratulate the girl, Peter wiggles his eyebrows, and she punches him in the shoulder.

Peter definitely doesn’t feel safe without MJ. He can barely open heavy doors, let alone fight off anyone who feels like picking a fight. But, this thought is promptly taken off his mind when he sees who’s fighting next.

The next fighter is the most handsome man Peter’s ever seen before.

His hair is a chocolate color that’s pulled up into a bun, loose strands framing his sharp features. His dusty blue-gray eyes sparkle with adrenaline, thick eyebrows furrowed above them. He’s got a scruffy beard and Peter maybe wondering how it would feel on his thighs. And don’t even get him started on his body. Let’s just say Peter may be drooling over his six pack for the next couple of days, and the way his dog tags fall over his chest.

One of the craziest things, though, is the metal arm that takes place of a real, fleshy left arm.

“He’s one of the best, by the way. Never loses a fight.” The man next to him says, showing the money he’s betting on the guy.

“Really?” Peter responds, preferring to look at the fighter than talk about him.

“Yeah. Seems like your new, so always put your money on Bucky.”

Bucky.

The name suits him, rugged and unique like him.

“By the way, the name’s Kenny.”

“Peter. Nice to meet you.”

Bucky adjusts his mouthguard, slipping on his black boxing gloves as the person who seems to be his coach massages his shoulders.

Peter could care less about the other fighter, as Bucky is obviously the star of the show.

The crowd grows about 10 times louder for Bucky.

The referee sets the two up, shouting the rules over the crowd.

“No biting, no kicking, and no shots below the belt. Got it?”

Both men nod, bumping their gloves together.

“Ready? Fight.”

Peter’s never been this entertained by a fight before.

Honestly, when a hot guy is throwing the punches, fights become a lot more interesting.

It still makes him a little woozy seeing blood spewing out of someone’s nose, but whatever.

The ref holds up Bucky’s arm after 2 rounds, the other guy knocked out cold and being dragged off the mat by his coach.

“Where do I have to go to talk to him?” Peter asks Benny.

He lets out a loud laugh.

“Bucky doesn’t talk to fans, kid.”

Peter pouts and crosses his arms. Kenny sighs.

“You can find him at the bar.”

Peter flashes his smile that _should_ be award winning and hops down the bleachers. He pushes through the crowd, finding his way to the makeshift bar that probably carries 10 different diseases on it’s countertop.

He spots Bucky leaning against the bar talking with his coach, so Peter makes the great decision to stand behind the coach and order his drink.

“Could I get a water?” He asks the bartender, the burly, dark skinned man nodding and turning away.

Peter makes sure to lean against the counter, sticking out his ass _just so._

This seems to do the job somewhat.

“Didn’t expect someone like you to be here.”

Peter cocks his head so he’s looking at the coach. Up close, he’s definitely handsome. He’d even go as far to say pretty. His facial features are sharp, yet soft in a young way. He has clean cut blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He’s ripped under the navy button up he has on, which is weird attire for the ring.

“You sayin’ something?” Peter quips, nodding his thanks to the bartender who sits his water in front of him.

The coach raises his hands in mock defense.

“Absolutely not.”

Peter giggles and bites his lip.

“Steve. Rogers.” The man, Steve, holds out his hand and Peter gives it a weak shake.

“Peter Parker.”

“And this is Bucky.”

_Finally._

Bucky smiles at him, pressed against the bar and leaning on his good arm.

“H-Hey.” Peter attempts to say smoothly, pushing a stray piece of hair back.

“I’m going to watch the next fight. You two get along.” Steve tries to joke, turning to push through the crowd.

“Saw you out there. I’ve got to admit, I never thought I’d find a fight so hot.” Peter flirts, adjusting the bottom of his baby pink crop top.

“Queens.”

Peter’s brow furrows in confusion.

“What?”

Bucky smirks and stands up.

“You’re from Queens. I can tell.”

Peter smiles.

“And what does that have to do with anything, Brooklyn?”

“It just so happens I have a thing for guys from Queens.”

Peter ends up bent over the table in Bucky’s warm up room after the last fight.

***

_Doll: !!!_

_Attachment: IMG_350_

_Bucky: that is dumb_

***

“Y’know, I think you’re my good luck charm.”

Peter laughs from across where Bucky is sitting on the ground doing his stretches.

“Buck, you’ve been undefeated for like, 2 years. We’ve been together for what, 3 weeks?” Peter says as he helps push Bucky’s back down, the older grabbing his toes to stretch.

“Still. I think that’s all chance.” He huffs as his muscles flex.

“You’re funny Barnes.”

“M’ lucky you don’t distract me. Sittin’ there, lookin’ all pretty in my clothes.”

Yeah, he may be Bucky’s biggest fan.

He tries to make every single one of Bucky’s fights, (which are legal, apparently)taking the subway all the way from Queens. He tends to wear Bucky’s shirts, oversized on his tiny body and short shorts.

“You think I’m pretty?” Peter teases, lightly kissing the back of Bucky’s neck as he leans over his left leg.

“The prettiest out there, darlin’.”

Peter’s lips come in contact with the cool metal of Bucky’s left shoulder.

“I think that’s you, Bucky.”

He hears Bucky gasp in mock anger as he crosses his right arm across his chest.

Out of nowhere, Bucky turns around and pulls Peter on the ground with him, colliding their lips together in a lighthearted smooch.

“No one is prettier than you.” Bucky grumbles as he presses a kiss to the corner of Peter mouth. Peter giggles and squeezes Bucky tighter.

“If I remember correctly, you said something about enhancing your performance with pre-fight sex. You wanna test that claim?”

***

_Buck 🖤🖤: Where r u_

_Peter: in the bathroom_

_Buck🖤🖤: Oh_

***

“Jesus Christ Bucky, fucking sit still!” Peter groans as he straddles Bucky’s lap, a plethora of first aid supplies scattered on the half broken coffee table.

He’s been playing the part of Nurse much more since he’s moved in with Bucky. He successfully convinced Aunt May that he was just looking for a roommate, and that Peter’s reception job wasn’t enough to keep up rent.

Total lie.

But, he’s happy with Bucky and their Goodwill furnished home, so keeping Aunt May in the dark for a little bit can’t hurt.

“The mouth on you, doll.”

“Hush.” Peter snaps, dabbing a bit of peroxide on his split lip.

Luckily, he doesn’t make any noise, just grips Peter’s hips a little tighter.

“There. The worst part is over, baby.”

Bucky just groans as Peter dabs some Neosporin on the wound, then covering it in a small drop of liquid bandage. He tries to lean in for kiss, but Peter stops him.

“Nu-uh. Wait for that to dry. Then you can give me all the kisses you want.”

Bucky pouts and rests his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter gives the top of his head a little kiss, massaging his real arm lightly.

“My nurse.” Bucky mumbles, warm breath hitting Peter’s neck.

“Let’s get started on that hand, shall we?”

Bucky pulls away and places his beaten hands in Peter’s. It’s funny, the stark contrast of Bucky’s large, scarred, bleeding hand, and metal one, in Peter’s flawless, tiny ones.

Peter rests Bucky’s hands in his lap, turning to grab more peroxide. Bucky hisses as the cotton ball hits his open wounds and Peter gives him a kiss on the cheek as reassurance. He uses the Neosporin again then wraps his hand in white bandages.

“There. All better.” Peter says softly, pecking his lips quickly.

“Thanks, doll. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.” Bucky chuckles, brushing a curl out of Peter’s eyes gently.

“I don’t know how you survived all these years without me. You beat yourself up.”

Bucky hums in response, taking Peter’s face in his newly bandaged hands and kissing him. Peter squeaks in surprise, immediately wrapping his arms around the older’s neck.

“You wanna dance, darlin’?”

Ah, dancing.

Peter swears Bucky is a time traveler or something, he seems to have walked straight out of the 40’s. He’s very much a gentle giant, preferring to sway with Peter in the kitchen when neither of them can sleep.

Peter chuckles against Bucky’s neck.

“Sure, baby.”

Bucky eagerly pushes Peter off his lap, sauntering to the kitchen table where his record player is. Peter hears the scratch of the needle as Bucky finds the right song. The crooning voice of Ella Fitzgerald abruptly starts and Peter can practically _feel _Bucky’s smile in the air.

He heads back to the living room, arms outstretched and brow raised in question.

Peter giggles and hops off the couch. He presses his left palm to Bucky’s right, his metal arm wrapping around his waist gently. Peter rests his head on Bucky’s chest with a sigh. He runs his thumb against the textured material of the bandage.

_“Dance with me, I want my arm about you.”_

Bucky mumbles softly along with the music.

Peter giggles and kisses his nose.

“You’re a dork.”

“_Your_ dork.”

“Damn straight, Buck. Damn straight.”

***

_Buck 🖤🖤: I hate technology_

_Peter: okay go off ig_

***

Bucky looks absolutely terrifying before a fight.

That’s what Peter figures out as he sits next to Steve right by the cage, perched on his reserved bar stool, mini skirt riding up.

Bucky glares at the people yelling in his ear as he pushes through the crowd, making his way towards Steve.

Some guy claps him on the shoulder and of looks could kill, he’d be dead in an instant.

“Alright Buck, you’ve gotta leave all your anger out on that mat.” Steve says once he’s close enough, stretching his neck and staring the other fighter down.

Earlier that day when Peter got home from work, Bucky had smoked through a pack and was practically fuming.

He refused to talk about it with Peter, but the younger still insisted on calming him down by putting on his favorite Ink Spots record.

Bucky is mumbling about something to Steve. Wordlessly, Peter gives his broad shoulders a little squeeze. Bucky turns around, and all the stress and anger drops off of his face.

“Doll.”

Bucky smiles and rests his hands on Peter’s thighs.

“Hi.”

He presses a kiss to Peter’s jaw, earning a little giggle from the boy.

“Here, baby.” Bucky takes his hands off of Peter’s thighs, bringing them up to his neck. “Been meanin’ to give these to ya.”

Peter stares with parted lips as he takes off his dog tags, slipping the cool metal around Peter’s neck.

“Bucky I-“

“Sh.”

Peter’s silenced with a kiss, it ending quicker than he would have liked.

“I’m up. Love you to pieces.”

_Fuck_.

“I love you too.”

Bucky presses one last kiss to his cheek before heading over to Steve, rubbing his thumb over the James Buchanan Barnespressed in the tag.

***

_Buck 🖤🖤: Can u get me my cigs _

_Peter: no_

_***_

“You better cut that shit out, Barnes. It’ll kill you.” Peter pokes Bucky’s side as they stand on the fire escape.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, the wind blowing his open flannel print shirt slightly.

“Whatever. Just gotta make the most of now.”

Peter giggles.

“One, that made no sense. Two, that’s very depressing thinking.”

Bucky chuckles as he leans over the railing, watching the clouds float in the sky. It’s almost dark out, the sky a blue grey that reminds Peter of Bucky’s eyes.

“As long as I live long enough to marry you.”

_What?_

Peter’s heart practically stops in his chest.

“You-wait, you want to marry me?” He blubbers, wiping his sweaty palms on his sleep shorts.

“Doesn’t have to be right now. Just wanna make you a Barnes one day.” Bucky says nonchalantly, fiddling with the cigarette that’s between his fingers.

“Make me a Barnes?” Peter repeats, voice barely a whisper.

“You okay with that, doll?”

Peter feels immediate guilt.

“Yes, I, fuck! Bucky I love you. I want to be with you forever. Want to be a Barnes.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs.

“Good. Because it would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t.”


	2. starker hs: senior!tony x innocent, rich!peter

## starker hs: senior!tony x innocent, rich!peter

  * When Principal Fury asks Tony to show a new sophomore around on the first day of school, the words _“fuck no”_ almost come out of his mouth.
  * But his mouth stays agape when he realizes that he’s a _senior_ and that he’s taking all _AP courses_, and how the _fuck_ did a sophomore get into them?
  * Then Principal Fury tells him the kid is coming from St. Francis Academy, a private school in the rich part of town, he understands.
  * _Peter_ is his name, and Tony can see him now, tall and probably blonde with a navy sweater that has his initials embroidered on it.
  * So on the first day of school, as he heads to the main office to lead Peter to homeroom, expecting a snarky, too-big-for-his-britches sophomore, he’s shocked.
  * _“Oh! You must be Tony! I’m Peter, Peter Parker!”_
  * The boy is adorable, with his fluffy chestnut curls, thick-framed glasses, too big baby blue sweater, and his smile as bright as the sun. Tony just wants to pull him in close and ravish those plush pink lips, watch those honey-brown eyes flutter shut in pleasure.
  * _“Yeah. Let’s get you to homeroom, kid.”_
  * Peter looks a bit sad at the lack of interaction, and it kills Tony to see his little pout, but he can’t fucking associate with a freshman.
  * But he can’t get away, because Peter is a genius, and he’s in all of Tony’s upper-level classes. The older boy can’t help but catch glances at Peter during class. He’s so cute when he’s concentrating, with his brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth.
  * And Tony’s never been good at denying pretty boys things, so he lets Peter trail after him like a puppy.
  * Peter loves Tony’s friends, too. He’s smitten with them. (Your hair is so pretty, Bucky, can I braid it?) (Steve, you’re the best artist I’ve ever met!) (You can speak another language, Thor? Can you teach me?)
  * They gobble it up.
  * And truly, Tony does too.
  * Peter somehow persuaded Tony to be _“study buddies”_, which usually ends up in Peter showing Tony various cat videos on his iPhone X.
  * Tony is falling in love and he hates it.
  * He hates it because Peter is so little and innocent, he doesn’t think twice about Tony’s attempts at flirting.
  * He thinks it’s for the best because Peter is so sweet and Tony thinks he’d break the boy if he got his hands on him.
  * Tony sleeps around, but nothing will ever be as good as Peter by his side.
  * He throws his usual parties, and he’s busy chatting up a busty blonde, when-
  * _“Tony! Tony!”_
  * Peter’s standing in the middle of the living room, sinfully tight blue jeans on with a navy blue crop-top on top.
  * _“Peter? What are you doing here?”_
  * The boy’s eyes widen, but he starts laughing, and Tony notices the red solo cup in his hand.
  * He’s drunk.
  * His Peter is drunk.
  * _“Come on, Pete. Let’s get you home.”_
  * Tony asks Steve to watch over the house, and with much protest, he gets Peter into his best up Chevy and to the Eastside.
  * They stumble into Peter’s $900,000 house, the boy giggling and gasping at the known wonders of his home.
  * _“Toooooony, hold me.”_
  * Tony’s throat is dry as his hand hovers over the handle to Peter’s bedroom door.
  * _“Tony. Wanna cuddle. Wanna for sooooo long.”_
  * Oh fuck. Oh, fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
  * He can’t say no.
  * _(I’m really sorry for the lack of content recently. I’m working hard on my piece for the zine.)_


	3. starker; alpha!tony x omega!schoolboy!peter

* All of Peter’s life, he’s only known St. Monica’s School for Omegas, the most prestigious boarding school in America.

* He’s 16 and he hasn’t been picked by an alpha yet. Most omegas are out of there by 15.

* Alphas from around the world travel to St. Monica’s to pay copious amounts of money to take an omega home for themselves.

* So, word spread pretty quickly that the genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist, Tony Stark, was visiting their school to look for an omega.

* And a male one.

* Peter is ecstatic because maybe he’ll finally be swept off his feet like the omegas in children’s fairytales.

* But the entire male student body thinks the same.

* And Peter can’t help but feel a little disappointed that his roommate, Harley, was sent a letter allowing him to be excused from class for a “special meeting” and Peter wasn’t.

* So he spent the day Tony Stark was visiting sulking.

* During his Advanced Caregiving class his teacher, Miss Beckett, asked him to bring a few books back to the Library.

* Peter of course agrees, being the helpful omega he is, making the trek across the school to return the books.

* It’s uneventful until he turns a corner and almost passes out because he’s hit with the scent of alpha.

* He’s never smelt alpha as strong as this before, since there’s only beta and omega teachers in the building.

* His knees get all week and his brain is fuzzy as he tries to keep the sudden slick from dripping down his legs.

* He’s leaning against the wall trying to catch his breath when;

* “_Mister Parker, are you okay? Are you sick, do you need to visit the infirmary?_”

* Peter’s eyes are heavy as he looks up to see his headmistress, Missus Zeldler, and, fuck,

* Tony Stark.

* “_Um, I-I don’t know._”

* His breath is shaky and he really doesn’t know, because his books are on the floor and he can’t even remember how they got there.

* Suddenly strong arms are around him and he’s engulfed in the scent of alpha.

* “_Here, kid, let’s get you to the nurse._”

_* Against all better judgment, he subconsciously lets out a whine and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck._

* Peter can smell _exactly_ when Tony realizes what’s actually going on.

* He makes the mistake of looking up at Tony.

* There are deep smile lines around his eyes and mouth, dark chocolate brown eyes staring back at him.

* Peter can’t help but blurt out,

* “_You’re way more handsome than the Alphas in our storybooks, Mister Stark._”__

* Tony lets out a deep chuckle, chest moving against Peter.

* “_And you’re prettier than the omegas in our storybooks._”

* The compliment goes straight to Peter’s cheeks (and dick) and he buries his face in Tony’s thousand-dollar suit.

* “_Alpha.._”

* Tony groans at his whines, turning to face Headmistress Zelder.

* “_Yeah, I think I’ll take this one._”

_St. Monica’s_

  * Peter called his Aunt May and Uncle Ben right away, in tears, when Tony told him he would be claiming him. They were over the moon, excited that Peter finally was picked by an Alpha, but also because _Tony Stark _picked him.
  * Peter has heard stories about the treatment chosen Omegas get before they’re handed over to their Alphas. They’re whisked away during a class, pampered like a princess, and sent away.
  * So, Peter nearly dashes out the door when a small Omega woman asks to see him during Omega Wellness III.
  * She leads him to a small cottage on their outdoor property, and they get to work.
  * Peter gets a hair cut, facial, massage, and wax in some of his lower areas.
  * The omega lady scurries him to Headmistress Zeldler’s office and when the door opens he almost passes out.
  * The scent of Alpha, his Alpha, hits him in the face and makes him feel all fuzzy.
  * Through hooded eyes Peter spots Tony sitting in the chair opposite from the Headmistress, legs spread and a glass of something in hand.
  * Through the fuzz in his brain he remembers what he’s been trained to do, so he shuffles over to Tony and lowers himself onto the floor. He adjusts his skirt prettily and rests his head against the inside of Tony’s thigh.
  * _“Good boy,” _Tony coos, reaching out a calloused hand to cup his cheek.
  * Peter feels his thighs get a little wet and he whines at the praise.
  * He can’t help but start purring as Tony cards his thick fingers through Peter’s curls._ (He wonders what they’ll feel like in his-)_
  * Peter nuzzles into Tony’s thigh, the silky, expensive fabric warm on his cheek.
  * Peter knows that Tony and Headmistress Zedler are talking about him, something about fees, but he can’t seem to focus on what they're saying, only the feeling of Tony’s hand.
  * _“Mister Stark, do you have a collar now? I’m sure you’re aware of the necessity of a one.”_
  * At this, Peter’s head snaps up. Headmistress gives him a warning glare that says _‘behave yourself.’_
  * _“I do. I had one custom made the other day with the measurements you sent.”_
  * Tony gives him a little squeeze on the back of his neck to calm him down.
  * _“Happy, bring it here.”_
  * A man dressed in a suit approaches them from the corner. Peter hadn’t noticed him before and he can’t even tell if he’s an alpha or beta. Tony’s scent is too strong.
  * _“Peter, honey, come up here,”_
  * Tony pats his thighs and Peter practically scrambles onto his lap. He straddles Tony’s hips, his skirt riding up and showing off his milky thighs.
  * Tony lets out a low purr in his throat, coaxing Peter to bare his neck.
  * _“Not yet, sweetheart.”_
  * Peter holds back a whine as Tony opens the black velvet box, showing the collar inside.
  * Peter lets out a tiny gasp at the sight. The collar is not too thick, but not too thin. It’s a baby pink color, and it looks like it’s made out of satin. There are small diamonds placed on its length. There’s a small, gold heart that’s engraved with _“Property of Tony Stark.”_
  * _“Do you like it? I can get you a different one if you don’t.”_
  * _“No no Alpha, I love it!”_
  * Tony gives his neck a quick nip and takes the collar in his big hands.
  * _“Stay still.”_
  * Peter looks at Tony as he secures the collar around his neck. It’s soft against his neck and he nuzzles into Tony’s.
  * _“Alpha,”_
  * Peter moans into Tony’s neck, mouthing at the smooth skin.
  * _“Let’s get you home, my little omega.”_
  * Peter smiles.
  * _Home._


	4. starker; ballerino!peter x sugar daddy!tony

## 

## éphémère

inspired by the beautiful headcanons by @honeysuckleparker !!

words: 1.7k

warnings: smut, daddy kink, feminization 

_éphémère_

_adj._

_lasting only for a short time; transitory, ephemeral_

Tony Stark is a spontaneous man.

So spontaneous that’s he’s sitting in the Palais Garnier when he _should _be negotiating trade deals for SI.

Paris is truly beautiful. Sure, he’s been many times before, but he’s always been so caught up with work to actually enjoy his trip.

The breaking point was about a week ago when Pepper reached _her _breaking point, screaming at him about how he didn’t fill out papers that were due two weeks ago. At that, he said _“Au Revoir!”_ , hopping on his private jet and flying to the City of Lights.

So, that’s how he ended up in the most expensive seat in the theatre. He even bought a new Brioni suit, charcoal grey and costing an upwards of $5,000.

He wasn’t even so sure what ballet he was going to see since the entire website was in French whilst he was buying the tickets. To his delight, Google Translate helped him discover the ballet is Sleeping Beauty.

What he _wasn’t _expecting was a boy.

A young boy to be playing the lead role of Aurora.

But boy, does this kid really fit the _‘beauty’_ part of Sleeping Beauty.

The young man is perfect for the role, long, dainty limbs, and miles of milky skin. Mousy brown curls fall over his unblemished forehead, bouncing ever so slightly as he moves across the stage. From the first tier, Tony can see his caramel doe eyes, conveying as much emotion as his dancing. The gold jewels on his costume glint under the stage light, the sheer material of his white tutu sparkling ever so slightly. His long legs look delicious in his pinkish tights. The costume accentuates the delicate curves he has. Tony is absolutely entranced at the young boy’s dancing, landing every jump and spin perfectly. As he watches the dancer celebrate his awakening by true love’s kiss, Tony makes sure to catch the dancer at the end of the show.

The show ends, the audience giving a standing ovation, Peter red-faced and bowing sheepishly.

Turns out, it’s not that hard to wiggle his way backstage. Of course, management knows who Tony is, _(who doesn’t)_ and they quickly rush him back into the theatre to meet the director of the show.

“Bonjour, Mister Stark! What a pleasure to have you here. I’m Nadine Pelletier, director of the performance.”

Tony shakes the woman’s hand. She seems a bit older, faint smile lines around her mouth and eyes. She’s draped in black cloth and Tony can’t tell if she’s wearing a dress or not.

“The show was amazing, Ms. Pelletier.” He says, patting her on the shoulder. “I was wondering about the lead boy. What is his name?”

She smiles.

“Ah, that would be Peter. He is an amazing young man. He just turned 18 and is the first to dance the role as a male. He is truly talented.”

“Madame Pelletier!” A sweet voice calls out from behind Tony.

There he is.

Peter is even more gorgeous up close. His curls are sticking to his head because of sweat and Tony swears he has lip gloss coating his pink, soft lips. He’s holding a black bag that’s the length of his body and it must be the costume.

In place of his costume, he’s donned skin-tight leggings and a Paris Opera Ballet School long-sleeved shirt.

“Mon Ange! Nous parlions juste de toi.”

_(My angel! We were just speaking of you.)_

Peter’s face turns a deeper red.

“You did an amazing job, Peter. You are truly beautiful.” Tony tells him sincerely.

“Oh, _merci _Mister Stark! I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Peter giggles, rocking on his heels and biting his lip.

_God_, this kid is the epitome of sex on legs.

“Might have to come again. Absolutely stunning.”

Peter swats at Tony’s bicep.

“Oh, _stop_.” He laughs, clearly basking in the praise.

“I’ll leave you two be. I must get home now. Wonderful job, Peter.” Ms. Pelletier says, giving Peter two kisses on his cheeks and Tony would like to do the same.

“So, how about I walk you home?” Tony offers, fingertips grazing over the thin material of his shirt.

Peter’s gaze immediately goes from innocent to sultry, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Or…” Peter trails off, adjusting the strap of the duffel bag that’s slung over his shoulder.

“Or what?” Tony walks over closer to Peter, leaning down so his lips brush the younger’s ear. “You want me to take you back to mine in my Ferrari? Surely a pretty ballerina like you should be spoiled by daddy.”

Peter lets out a little gasp at his words, gently guiding Tony’s hands onto his hips.

“_Please_, daddy.”

Tony’s never ran so fast.

He opens the door to his car for Peter, the young boy giggling as he climbs into the passenger seat. Tony starts the car at lightning speed, taking off with a pretty uncomfortable hard-on.

“You know, I didn’t expect my dancing to have me whisked away by the embodiment of _daddy material_.” Peter quips as Tony studies the built-in GPS.

“_Fuck_, you’re killing me.” Tony groans, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Peter pouts.

“We don’t want that, do we?”

Before he knows it, Peter’s dainty hand is sliding over the console to rub his boner through his pants.

“_Peter_.” He hisses, stepping on the gas a little too hard. His hand darts away and Tony can’t help but whine.

“_Merde_, you’re staying in a house here?” Peter asks, looking out the tinted window as they pull up to Tony’s rented villa.

“Yes. And there’s a bed upstairs that I want you in right away.”

Peter giggles and hops out of the car. They power-walk to the front door, Tony stumbling with the keys as Peter mouths at his neck. He finally gets the door open, shrugging off his suit jacket and slamming the door.

“Upstairs. _Now_.”

They waste no time climbing up the staircase, Tony leading Peter to the first bedroom on the right. The younger kicks off his slides and climbs onto the bed as Tony loosens his tie.

He can see the outline of Peter’s cock straining against the tight fabric of his leggings.

“_Daddy_,” Peter whines, ghosting his hand over the front of his crotch.

“One sec, baby.” Tony grunts as he kicks his slacks off, leaving him only in a white shirt and his boxers.

Tony silences Peter’s whining with a filthy kiss.

“Get this off.” He groans against Peter’s lips, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. The boy pulls away and pulls the shirt over his head. Tony places a kiss on his chest and Peter giggles. He situates the two so that Peter is straddling him.

Tony grips the boy’s soft locks as they kiss, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Peter grinds against him, tiny whimpers escaping his mouth and entering Tony’s. Tony’s hands slide their way down Peter’s torso, gripping his perfect little ass. He tugs at the waistband of the boy’s leggings, feeling the lace of the panties underneath.

“_Fuck_.” Tony cusses when they pull away, both panting heavily. He slips the leggings off of Peter’s legs, leaving the boy red-faced and nearly bare on the bed.

“Oh, _princess _.” Tony groans, feeling the lace of the panties.

“_Enculer_,” Peter moans, arching his back.

“Can I have a taste of that pretty pussy, sweetheart?”

Peter moans even louder, nodding furiously and getting on his hands and knees.

“ Please daddy, eat me out.” He groans, sticking his ass out in the air.

Tony slaps his ass lightly and pulls down the pink panties.

“God, such a beautiful hole.” He groans, rubbing the outside of Peter’s hole with his thumb.

“_Please_,” Peter moans and Tony kisses right under his hole.

Tony gets to work right away, licking up and down and moving his tongue in and out.

He decides Peter makes the prettiest noises he’s ever heard.

Peter ends up begging him to use his fingers and how can Tony deny him?

Soon Peter is spilling all over the silk sheets with soft moans as Tony strokes his sensitive prostate.

“Daddy’s got a little problem, kitten. Can you show me what else that mouth can do?”

Peter nods, scrambling off the bed and kneeling on the hardwood floor. He takes his perfectly manicured hands and pulls down Tony’s boxers. His cock springs free, angry and leaking. Peter moans at the sight, immediately leaning down to give the tip a few kitten licks. Tony can’t help but buck his hips up, clenching the sheets in his fists. Soon enough Peter is sucking on the head of his cock, looking up at him with those big brown eyes. Tony moans as he takes him all in his mouth, gripping onto his thighs as he sucks. Peter moves his head furiously and Tony has to pull out so he doesn’t come right then and there.

“On your back, sugar.”

Peter climbs back onto the bed, legs spread invitingly.

“Oh _fuck _Pete, so beautiful. ” Tony groans, grasping Peter’s knees and spreading them apart. He takes his cock in hand and sinks right in to the hilt. They both moan loudly, Peter’s hands flying to grasp Tony’s biceps.

“_Move_, Daddy, _please_.”

Tony immediately starts slamming into Peter and he’s the tightest Tony’s ever had. Peter is an absolute vision underneath him, plump lips parted and eyes hooded.

Peter lets out a scream and Tony knows why.

“_Fuck_! Daddy, right there, oh _god_,” Peter babbles, curls bouncing against his forehead. Tony moans as he nails the younger’s prostate repeatedly, groaning words of encouragement.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” Peter cries, grip tightening on Tony.

“Yeah, baby? You gonna come on daddy’s cock like a little slut?” Tony grunts, accentuating the last words with harsher thrusts.

Just like that, Peter lets out one last moan as his release spills all over his stomach. The fluttering of his asshole triggers Tony’s orgasm, the older man collapsing on top of Peter once he’s finished.

“Fuck, Tony. That was amazing.” Peter breathes, nuzzling into Tony’s neck.

“Yeah?” Tony asks with a laugh, pulling out of Peter and rolling them over so the boy is lying on his chest.

“This will probably be the only time, though,” Peter says sadly, thoughts clouded by the reality of sleeping with a playboy.

Tony smiles.

“Don’t worry, I’m definitely coming back to Paris.”

(Thank you for reading! Moodboard requests are always open.)


	5. starkerstrange: country club

starkerstrange: country club

words: idk

warnings: NFF, blowjobs, kind of degration???

a/n: I love them

“Wow, you suck.”

Stephen glares at the boy, loosening his grip on his club.

“Brat,” He spits, sulking over to where his golf ball sits in the bunker. Peter’s giggle pierces through the warm summer air.

“You love me!” He calls out as Stephen switches his club out for a sand wedge.

And it’s true.

Peter is perfect, even if he is a bit of a brat. He’s truly a sweetheart on the inside. _(And a good fuck.)_

Stephen ogles his boy’s ass as he grips his club just right, perfecting his stance. He looks delicious in his tiny black golf skirt, crisp white polo shirt, and his black Nike golf shoes. The sun makes his slightly tanned skin shine, freckles dusting his arms and face. He hits the golf ball lightly, the sphere rolling away and straight into the hole.

“Yes!” He squeals, dropping his club and bouncing up and down. “Did you see that, daddy?”

Stephen chuckles and shakes his head.

“It was okay.”

Peter sticks his tongue out at him, then bends over to pick up his club. He shakes his hips teasingly, and Stephen catches a flash of white lace. He bites his lip to calm himself down, flipping up his wrist to check his Rolex.

11:34

_Shit_.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Stephen calls out, and Peter looks up from where he’s putting his club away into his hot pink caddy. “We’re late for lunch.”

Peter’s doe eyes widen and his cherry red lips fall into an _O_.

“Then let’s go!” He giggles, picking up his caddy and skipping over to the golf cart. Stephen sighs, climbing out of the sand and following Peter. He didn’t pick up his golf ball, because one, he’s old and his back is brittle, and two, he really doesn’t care.

“God, you’re so slow.” Peter complains once he reaches the cart, climbing in the driver's seat and starting the vehicle.

“And you’re annoying.” Stephen teases, and Peter presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

“But I love you,” Peter sings as Stephen drives through the course, wind tousling his fluffy chestnut curls.

“Love you more, baby boy.” He hums, taking a particularly sharp turn into the parking lot of the course’s restaurant. Peter bounces in his seat impatiently, waiting for Stephen to climb out of the cart.

“Impatient, impatient,” The greying brunette scolds, taking Peter’s moisturized hand in his. The younger boy nuzzles into his semi-bare arm. They walk up the ramp to the open door to the _Ocean Breeze Eatery._ It’s cool inside, the beach house themed lobby bright and welcoming.

“Doctor Strange!” The hostess, Kate, exclaims, “Mister Stark is right this way.”

The couple is lead through the main dining room, maneuvering around the pristine tables to the corner of the room. Tony is sitting, red-tinted sunglasses on his face. He looks handsome, as usual, in a 3-piece Tom Ford suit (his go-to).

“Daddy!” Peter giggles happily, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to Tony's lips. The older man grabs Peter by the collar of his polo, kissing him deeper.

“How was golfing, _bambino_?” Tony purrs as the younger boy slips between the two men. Tony reaches out and squeezes Stephen’s hand in greeting, smiling softly. The man knows him so well, knows how soft touches to themselves makes his heart sing.

“Oh, daddy, it was so good!” Peter squeals, taking a sip of his already ordered pink lemonade. “Stephen is _really_ bad at golf.”

Tony raises his eyebrows and gives Stephen a look.

“What did I say about being a brat, baby?” Stephen coos, caressing Peter’s freckled cheek in his hand. He runs his thumb over those baby soft lips, and being the little minx he is, Peter sucks on it softly.

“I think you said you love it.”

Stephen tugs on the bottom of Peter’s hair teasingly.

“New skirt, angel? It looks a little short.” Tony hums, taking a sip of his bourbon.

“You like it? I think it makes my ass look good.” Peter says nonchalantly, pulling at his skirt. Stephen can see Tony swallow thickly.

“Hell yeah, I do. You look fuckin’ _delicious_,” He growls, and Peter flushes like a rose.

“Daddy, that’s _naughty_,” He whispers. Stephen’s squeezes Peter’s bare thigh, slender fingers brushing the edge of the white lace.

“Hi, gentlemen! My name’s Meredith and I’ll be your server today.”

The table looks up at the blonde, stopping their, well, _banter._

“Are you ready to order?” She asks, and Stephen sends a glance around the table.

“Yeah. Pete, what do you want?”

“You pick for me,” He coos, trailing his fingers down Stephen’s forearm.

“He’ll have the buffalo wings.” The older man says without missing a beat, in the mood to watch his baby suck sauce off his fingers.

“I’ll get the filet mignon, medium-well.” Tony drawls, handing Meredith his menu.

“I’ll have the lobster tails,” Stephen says softly, handing over his and Peter’s menu.

As they wait for their food, the trio flirts back and forth. By the time the food comes, Stephen has a slight chub in his pants.

Peter digs right into his wings, sucking on his fingers to get every last drop of buffalo sauce off.

“Daddy, can I have a piece of your steak?” He asks sweetly, fluttering his long eyelashes.

“Of course, sweet thing.” Tony coos, taking a small piece of meat between his fingers and _feeding_ it to Peter.

Stephen knows how to keep his cool. He’s been doing it since he and Tony opened their relationship. But sometimes it’s _really_ hard.

They make it through lunch, and soon enough the three of them are stumbling into the backseat of Tony’s Audi.

“Fucking brat. Teasing us all day.” Tony growls as Peter situates himself on the floor of the car. Stephen knows exactly how to get back at Peter, so he turns and kisses Tony sensually. He can hear Peter whine from the floor, so Stephen kisses Tony harder, gripping the nape of his neck as his beard scrapes against Tony’s.

“Steph, baby,” Tony mutters as the other man nibbles on his jaw.

“Daddy, _please_ let me suck you off!” Peter cries, kneading at both his daddies’ growing bulges. Both men chuckle, turning to look at the younger boy.

“You’re going to do the work, princess.” Stephen slurs, playing with Peter’s almond curls gently. He nods vigorously, mouthing wetly at Stephen’s clothed crotch while squeezing Tony’s.

“_Good boy,_” Stephen breathes, breath hitching at how Peter looks the older man straight in the eyes as he licks up his bulge. “Take my cock out, sweetheart, then help daddy over there, okay?”

Peter takes his nimble fingers and unzips Stephen’s golf pants, slipping out his aching cock and pressing a quick kiss to the head. Stephen groans as Peter moves to unbutton Tony’s slacks, giving his cock a couple of slow strokes. Stephen does the same, watching with a parted mouth as Peter suckles on Tony’s leaking head.

“So _fucking_ good for your daddies. Such a hot, tight mouth, god, Pete,” Tony moans, forcing his thick length farther down the young thing’s throat.

“C’mere, Peter, give daddy some love too.” Stephen grunts and Peter pulls off Tony’s dick with a wet pop. The other man moans loudly as Peter slips his cock into his mouth, sucking like his life depends on it.

“Such a pretty slut,” Tony coos, stroking his own dick as he runs his thumb down Peter’s cheek. His lips are stretched around Stephen’s length, strawberry lips slick with spit.

“Fuck, princess, daddy’s close,” Stephen groans, yanking Peter’s curls tightly and fucking up into his wet mouth. His hips stutter, and he moans deeply as he shoots his release down the younger’s throat.

“Peter, _fuck_, get over here, daddy’s going to come,” Tony grunts, and Peter obliges, his daddy’s come spilling out of his mouth. With a few quick thrusts into his hand, Tony comes with a moan, shooting ropes of white over Peter’s lips and cheeks. He looks utterly debauched, face flushed and hair ruined.

“Daddy, please, I need you to make me feel good, need to come,” He whimpers, real tears falling down his cheeks.

Tony and Stephen look at each other, and grin.


	6. starker; tony stark x cocktailwaiter!peter

starker; tony stark x cocktailwaiter!peter

-Peter has no idea how he even landed a job at the most exclusive casino in Las Vegas.

-He assumes it’s because of his girlish figure paired with his fast mind. (_Good for calculating prices, that’s about it._)

-2 months in and he can’t say he enjoys it.

-For starters, his uniform consists of booty shorts and stilettos, which took _weeks_ to get used to walking in.

-It definitely catches the attention of a few men and women, but he honestly can’t complain because he knows his female colleagues have it worse.

-He thinks it’s going to be another painful night when;

-_”Excuse me, sir?”_

-Peter is at first taken aback because he’s usually called honey, or baby, never _sir_.

-He turns around, ready to turn, before coming face to face with _the_ Tony Stark.

-He almost forgets about his job, but then regains his composure.

-_“How may I help you, Mister Stark?”_

-_“What do you’ve got there?”_

-Peter scurries over to the table he’s playing a round of poker on.

-_“It’s our house cocktail, sir.”_

-_“Huh. I’ll take one. Put it on my tab.”_

-Peter doesn’t want to be a creep so he tucks his now empty tray under his arm and turns on his heel to get more drinks, but a hand on his wrist stops him.

-_“Can I get a name, sweetheart?”_

-Oh, so he’s going to play _that_ game.

-_“Peter.”_

-_“Is that all I get?”_

-_“For now.”_

-A huge grin stretches across his face, making Peter weak in the knees.

-_“Put that tray away. Want you to join me for a bit.”_

-_“But sir, I’m working.”_

-_“Don’t you know who I am? Your boss won’t mind.”_

-The man has a point.

-So, he ends up in Tony’s lap, moving his ass ever so slightly at certain times, the older man’s calloused fingers playing with the edge of his shorts.

-He sits through rounds of poker, blackjack, and soon roulette, Tony letting Peter blow on the dice each time.

-Tony utters crude things in his ear the entire time, praising the boy for being the source of his luck.

-He also decides to feed Peter drink after drink, even resorting to dipping his fingers into a glass of scotch and making Peter suck on them.

-And soon enough he ends up in Tony’s (_well, the hotel’s_) bed.

-When he wakes up with Tony’s arms wrapped tight around him, he decides it’s the best sleep he’s ever gotten.

-The bed is ridiculously comfortable.

-_“Good mornin’, sugar.”_

-_“Mornin’.”_

-_“Do I get a last name now?”_

-_“It’s Parker.”_

-_“Peter Parker. It has a nice ring to it. I think I’m going to keep you around.”_

-(_Needless to say, they spend way more time in Sin City than necessary._)

***

(Thank you all so much for the support on my last post! It made my month. And remember, requests are always open!)


	7. starker; superior iron man x naive!peter

## 

## playing human 

starker; superior iron man x naive!peter

words: 2.3k

warnings: blow jobs, daddy kink, fem!peter, heavy feminization, manipulation, mind control

author’s note: sim is my absolute favorite comic series and I’ve always wanted to write it with starker. 

“Isn’t that just funny, Tony?”

The bleach-blonde girl next to him places her perfectly manicured hand on his bicep. Her other friend, the brunette with decent sized boobs and a slim waist, laughs. He barely paid attention to their features, because he knows it’s all due to Extremis. He’s put up with their brainless babbling for what feels like the past hour, but now he’s done.

“I’m going to have to stop you right there, sweetheart,” Tony responds, putting his hand up to stop the blonde from talking.

“The thing is, we don’t really know each other. So ‘Tony’ is off the table. It’s ‘Mr. Stark’ to you.” He says grumpily, taking a sip of his Scotch.

The girls’ smiles fade, finally becoming self-aware. Yet, the pair still won’t leave and Tony’s about to punch them in the throat when,

“Daddy!”

Tony grins as he spots his boy.

Peter is standing on the steps into the pool, clad in tiny blue swim shorts and a sheer white cover-up. Miles of milky skin is on display and Tony could jack off right then and there on his pool float.

“C’mere!” Tony shouts from halfway across the rooftop pool, only to be met with a pout. Peter gets out of the water and scurries over to the concrete edge nearest to Tony.

“I don’t want to get my hair wet,” Peter tells him once he’s close enough, plopping down onto the edge. He dangles his feet in the water, kicking slightly.

“Daddy’s spoiled girl.” Tony grins wickedly, much to the disgust of the girls. They would never dare say anything about his boy, _his princess,_ since Tony would dispose of them on the spot.

Peter just giggles and pushes his sunglasses further up his nose. Tony hops off his pool float, handing his glass to the brunette and wading to the edge of the pool. Peter squeals and kicks his feet happily as Tony runs his dripping hands over the boy’s smooth thighs.

“Hi.”

“Hi, beautiful.”

_Beautiful i_s truly the best word to describe Peter.

He wasn’t that surprised when he first found out Peter wasn’t on Extremis, as it is ridiculously expensive. What _did_ surprise Tony was how he’s the epitome of perfection without it. His skin is always clear, has the perfect body, and rarely gets sick.

He always says his family has good genes.

Tony is ripped out of his thoughts by a tiny hand tilting his face upwards, incredibly soft lips pressing against his own. He groans happily and wraps his arms around Peter’s torso, the warm pool water rippling in his wake. His hands grip Tony’s damp hair slightly, one hand moving to squeeze the nape of his neck. Tony slips his right hand under Peter’s Neiman Marcus coverup and runs his thumb over the marks he left from this morning. Tony decides to take his lips off of Peter’s and move them to the spot just below his jaw, taking the soft skin between his teeth and sucking. Peter lets out a breathy ‘_ah_’ as Tony adds new marks to his skin. He can feel people staring, but nobody would dare say anything in fear of being launched off of the roof.

“Tony!”

Tony groans in annoyance and removes his lips from Peter’s neck.

“Pepper! You want to hop in?” He exclaims, turning his head to face the fiery redhead.

She doesn’t smile.

“I don’t have my suit.” She sneers, arms crossed over her perfectly ironed blouse.

“It’s okay. We’re all friends here.” Tony quips, earning a little giggle from Peter.

He presses a chaste kiss to the boy’s temple as he rests his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“I’m not laughing. Get rid of your boy toy, we need to talk.”

Tony can feel Peter flinch against him. Pepper is _not_ very fond of his boy (maybe because he took her place) but he can’t really say anything to her. She practically runs the company.

“I’ve got to go face the beast, baby.” He mumbles softly in Peter’s ear, pushing the boy off him.

He pouts as Tony hops out of the pool, someone immediately running over to hand him a towel.

“You’ll come back to swim, right?” Peter asks sadly, fiddling with his charm bracelet Tony bought him. He always does that when he’s nervous.

“Of course. Go keep those pretty ladies over there company.” He tells Peter as he stands up. The younger grabs his hand and presses a kiss to it.

“Okay! I love you, daddy.” He giggles, taking off his coverup and placing it next to him gently.

“Daddy loves you too,” Tony tells the boy as he walks towards Pepper, blowing a kiss. Pepper grabs his wrist tightly as Peter pretends to catch the kiss and hold it to his heart.

⎊⎊⎊

Peter is a vision lying on the pool float.

The girls have left him, leaving him alone as other people swim and mingle around him.

He’s gotten a nice tan from all the time in the sun. The sun has made his freckles darken, adding to his whole sun-kissed look. The length of his shorts should be a sin, barely covering the plump swell of his ass.

Tony can’t tell if the boy is asleep or not since his limited edition Ray-Bans are covering those big brown eyes.

Peter’s head turns and he waves excitedly at the older man. Tony’s heart swells and he dives into the pool, heading to give his boy a big kiss. Peter accepts the wet kiss, laughing in happiness as Tony kisses his tummy.

“Daddy no!” He giggles, flipping over on the raft. It rocks a bit, so Tony reaches out to steady it. Peter stretches out like a cat, long legs shaking. Tony ghosts his hand over Peter’s ass, gently pressing against the plug resting inside.

The boy lets out a high pitched moan, raising his hips in search of more friction.

“You feeling okay?” Tony asks, snapping the waistband of Peter’s swim trunks.

He nods sheepishly, hiding his face in his arms.

Tony twists the plug through Peter’s trunks, earning a louder moan. A couple near them turn bright red and look away.

“Daddy, I need to take a shower.” Peter manages to whimper out.

Tony twists the plug again with a hum.

“Really? I guess I’ll have to join you.”

Peter nods vigorously.

“Let’s go baby boy.”

Tony swims to the side of the pool, hopping out as water floods over the side. Peter climbs out behind him and Tony notices a very obvious bulge. He snakes his arm around the boy’s waist, pulling him closer to his side. Peter giggles as they walk inside, heading straight for the elevator. It’s loud inside and the alcohol only amplifies the sound. Being the good girl she is, FRIDAY opens the elevator doors for them and brings them up to Tony’s personal floor.

“FRIDAY, start the shower.” Tony grunts, scooping Peter up bridal style. The boy squeals and nuzzles into his bare chest. Tony stumbles into the bedroom, carrying Peter to the master bathroom. He sets him down gently, small feet touching the marble floor. Tony notices a small silver bracelet around Peter’s left ankle.

“I like your ankle bracelet,” Tony hums, wrapping his arms around Peter’s torso and swaying him slightly.

“Thank you. I saw it when I was out shopping the other day.” Peter tells him.

Tony nods and kisses Peter’s shoulder gently. His calloused hands tug at the waistband of Peter’s swim trunks, pulling them down over his thighs. His small cock bobs, flushed a pretty pink and leaking.

“_Daddy_,” Peter whines, kicking off his trunks. Tony taps on his blue jeweled plug lightly.

“I’m going to take this out. I want you to be nice and tight for me tonight. Relax,” He coos, wrapping his rough fingers around the plug. Peter moans as it slips out with a squelch, come and lube dripping down his thighs slowly.

“Hop in,” Tony tells him with a slap to his ass. Peter giggles and climbs into the shower, closing his eyes as the hot water cascades down his body. Tony smiles as he takes off his own swim trunks, hard cock springing free. He sets the plug down on the counter. As he steps in the shower, Peter captures him in an eager kiss. The younger moans as his dick brushes against Tony’s thigh, due to the height difference.

“Let’s see what else that pretty little mouth can do,” Tony growls when they pull away, running his thumb over Peter’s slick bottom lip.

His boy grins eagerly and falls to his knees, giving his member a few strokes with his hand before wrapping his plump lips around the tip. Tony hisses in pleasure and grips the handle to the glass door, hot water spilling down his back. Peter immediately takes him down to the hilt, nose pressing against his now wet pubic hair. Tony silently thanks himself, because he’d never be able to keep up with the boy’s insatiable sex drive without Extremis. He knows he won’t be able to last long, he’s been horny since their morning round.

“Fuck Pete, daddy’s close,” He groans, grabbing a fistful of Peter’s drenched chestnut hair. The younger pulls off his dick with a pop, beginning to pump it with his beautifully manicured hands.

“Please daddy, want your come so bad,” Peter moans, sticking out his pink tongue.

The sight of his princess on his knees with his tongue out has Tony coming, painting Peter’s lips and tongue white with his release.

“Stand up, baby,” He groans once he finishes. Peter scrambles off of the tile, gripping onto Tony for dear life. Tony sucks on Peter’s neck as he reaches down to start stroking his cocklet. Peter lets out a high pitched moan and after about a dozen pumps of his cock he comes with a cry.

“So pretty for me,” Tony grumbles in his ear, kneading Peter’s soft cock as the younger twitches from overstimulation.

“Only for you, daddy. No one else,” He pants, gripping onto Tony’s forearms.

Tony grins wickedly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

⎊⎊⎊

Tony’s boy is such a charmer.

The young woman next to him had been talking his ear off about her modeling career and he would usually just ignore her after a couple minutes, but Peter kept her entertained by asking lots of questions.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go get daddy another bourbon?” He mumbles in Peter’s ear, squeezing his hips slightly.

Peter giggles and nods, scrambling off of Tony’s lap. He wonders how the boy does it, sitting for hours on his nanotech suit. Peter sways his hips as he walks to the bar, white jean shorts hugging his ass perfectly. He’ll have to find whoever made the shorts and give them a couple weeks of Extremis for free.

“He’s very lovely, Mr. Stark.” The woman says, watching Peter head over to the self serve bar.

“Isn’t he?” Tony grins and faces the girl.

“I see great things in his future.” She tells him, taking a sip of her white wine.

_That’s not ominous at all._

Before he has a chance to respond, he picks up a very loud voice emerging from the crowd.

“He’s using you, Peter!”

Tony rolls his eyes when he sees who the voice belongs to.

Michelle Jones has been on his watch list for a while, her open hatred for Extremis, Stark Industries, and Tony himself earning her a spot. Peter sheepishly told him that they were best friends when her picture was on the news after she organized a peaceful protest against Extremis.

Tony had kissed his temple and said he’d love to meet her.

She never took up the offer.

“MJ, you’re making a scene.” Peter says quietly, bourbon in hand.

Tony notices the kid next to Michelle, an overweight boy named Ned. He seems to have been dragged along, since he’s not vocal about his feelings towards Extremis. Once Tony took Peter and the boy out for lunch. Ned is nice, very smart and charismatic.

Good for his boy.

“I don’t care! He’s evil and ruthless. He’s manipulating you!” She shouts, the crowd around her quieting down. Peter is flushed a bright red, not with pleasure, but with embarrassment. Tony stands up slowly, eyes darkening at the sight of someone causing humiliation to his boy.

“Michelle. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He sneers, placing a metal covered hand on the small of Peter’s back. Michelle shoots daggers at him, which would have most terrified, but not Tony. Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s suit, pressing his cheek to the cold metal.

“Hi Ned. Good to see you again.”

Ned waves nervously and Tony winks at him.

“You took our boy, Stark.” Michelle accuses, stepping closer to the man in armor. Tony raises his arm, gauntlet ready to fire.

“Take one more step. I dare you.” He spits, ready to launch this brat off the tower.

“Daddy!” Peter cries, stepping in front of his raised arm. In shock, Tony puts his arm down.

“If you want to hurt them,” Peter takes a shaky breath, “You have to hurt me.”

His boy is so brave.

Tony raises his hand to cup Peter’s cheek.

“Peter,” He coos, smooth and sensual. Peter’s eyes turn the color of his, icy blue. He may have lied about no Extremist being in the boy’s system. He’s slipped Peter a few doses over the months, enough to submit him to occasional mind control but not enough to change his appearance.

“You don’t know Michelle. You never have and you never will. I want you to go upstairs, fuck yourself open on your fingers, and get ready for Daddy’s cock.”

Tony lets go of Peter’s face, his eyes turning back to their normal honey brown.

“Okay daddy! I love you.” Peter giggles and kisses Tony’s rough cheek.

“Love you too, princess.” Tony replies as the boy saunters away.

“Now,” He growls as he turns to face Michelle. He grins sinisterly, eyes turning blood red. The arc reactor and accents on his suit do the same, casting a red glow throughout the room.

“Where were we?”


	8. starker, a/b/o: king anthony x omegan commoner peter

  * Ever since he was a young boy, Peter has been raised with the chants of _“Long Live the King” _ringing in his ears.
  * His Aunt May and Uncle Ben have always shown their distaste of the royal family, opposed to their corrupt ruling and mistreatment of servants.
  * But, Peter doesn’t agree with them. He can’t help but admire the elder King Anthony as he stands before a crowd of his subjects, overlooking them from the balcony of the Grand Council Building, draped in golden robes adorned with jewels.
  * Peter has only ever known King Anthony, as his parents died way before Peter was born. His aunt and uncle would tell him stories about the late King Howard and Queen Maria, about how miserable most were under their rule.
  * They claim that King Anthony rules the same, but Peter can’t help but disagree.
  * King Anthony keeps their kingdom safe, creating alliances with neighboring kings such as King Steven and King Thor. They are rarely in war and in Peter’s eyes, the kingdom is prospering.
  * As much as his aunt and uncle dislike King Anthony and the way he rules, they cannot deny they live happily and in peace.
  * Until, on Peter’s 13th birthday, he presents as an Omega.
  * His aunt and uncle weep, explaining to him that he will be denied education and handed into a servant job.
  * Peter decides not to mention that he’s 13 and knows these things already.
  * His guardians must immediately notify the Council of Alpha and Omega Affairs, as he will be whisked away once he is 15.
  * Taking an omega before the age of 15 is illegal, yet men who lurk in the shadows swipe young omegas off the street anyways.
  * To combat this, Aunt May keeps him in the house all the time, refusing to let him outside for more than 10 minutes.
  * Luckily for him, his Aunt teaches him how to read and write. It’s more of an education that most omegas will receive, as many can’t even write their own names.
  * He enjoys reading, but can only read the few books Aunt May owns, such as _Romeo and Juliet _and _Utopia_.
  * On the morning of his 15th birthday, two well-dressed alpha men are on their steps, asking to take Peter for his assessment.
  * Peter doesn’t even notice the wails of his Aunt and Uncle as the alphas from the Council take him in the carriage, their scent overpowering his normal brain function.
  * Luckily the older alpha men don’t touch him as they ride to the Council building.
  * He’s ushered inside, small beta ladies washing him thoroughly, trimming his hair and wrapping a silk robe around his small body.
  * They move to a different room, 3 men conversing among themselves. He hears them mention King Anthony and the King’s Court.
  * Unfortunately, Peter is shipped away to a small school in the countryside, where he learns to be the perfect Omega.
  * He thrives there, becoming all of his teachers’ favorite.
  * He learns how to cook, clean, care for children, and please his future alpha.
  * On his 17th birthday, the men from what seems like years ago return. The same conversation ensues, about King Anthony and the court.
  * And before Peter knows it, he’s being driven to the gates of the King’s castle. His breath is caught in his throat as they enter the property, hundreds of flowers climbing up the stone walls of the castle.
  * There’s a group of men standing before the ginormous wooden doors, and in the middle is King Anthony himself.
  * Peter’s eyes are wide as the two beta ladies guide him to the King, stopping to kneel for the man. On shaky legs, Peter does the same.
  * _“Oh please, you mustn’t do that. It’s unnecessary.”_
  * King Anthony smiles as he helps Peter off of the ground. He’s ridiculously handsome, smile lines around his eyes and mouth, a perfectly trimmed beard, deep chocolate eyes, and brown hair with streaks of gray. His crown rests upon his head, embed with jewels and must be made of real gold.
  * Peter feels underdressed in his white robe and sandals.
  * King Anthony leans in extremely close, soft lips brushing against his ear.
  * _“This must be overwhelming for you, my little omega. Let’s get to somewhere private, hm?”_
  * Against all better judgment, he leans in and nuzzles into King Anthony’s neck.
  * _“Alpha,”_
  * The King squeezes his arm, tucking Peter under his own.
  * _“I will be giving Peter a tour of the castle. Please, leave us be for a while.”_
  * As soon as their alone, they’re on top of each other right away.
  * Peter joins King Anthony and his Court for dinner scented and with a new mating bite on his neck.
  * Peter loves his new life. He’s draped in lace and silk by personal servants, jewels placed onto his neck and wrists that cost more than the kingdom itself. He wanders the castle alone, his King away working. He loves the castle, the feeling of cool marble on his bare feet. His favorite room is the library, where he can read more books than he ever thought existed. He loves tending to the garden, caring for the flowers as if they were his own children. He loves the meals, the horses, the pampering.
  * But, he loves his Alpha more than anything. When Anthony has free time, nothing can separate the two. Peter always wears his best dresses when their together, or opting for nothing at all.
  * Anthony bites his mating gland every time they make love, promising to never leave him, and that he’ll always be his Queen’s.
  * Peter tells him he’ll always be his King’s.
  * Every night, Peter falls asleep in the strong arms of his Alpha, promises of children ringing in his ears.
  * As Anthony drifts off to sleep next to him, puffs of air hitting his neck softly, overwhelmed by emotion and pheromones, Peter thinks,
  * _“There’s no place I’d rather be.”_


	9. starker; little red riding hood!au

starker; little red riding hood!au

Peter should listen to his Aunt more.

He _should _have listened to his Aunt when she said to go straight to town and straight back.

He _should _have listened to her when she said to buy the bread and only the bread.

He _should_ have listened to her when she said not to dilly dally.

And he _definitely_ should have listened to her when she said to stay on the path.

But that butterfly was so pretty, and he just needed to follow it so he could look at it up close. And the field the butterfly landed in was the prettiest field, full of flowers and butterflies and bees.

It seems like a pretty good reason why he’s now lost in the woods, dusk steadily approaching.

Peter pulls his crimson riding cloak closer to his body, the chill of the approaching spring night washing over him. He doesn’t know if he should stay put or keep walking but ultimately decides on walking for a little while longer.

There has to be some indicator that he’s close to his Aunt’s house.

As the sky continues to grow dark, Peter spots a light in the near distance. It seems like,

A fire?

Peter stumbles forward, a few sticks snapping under his black ballet flats as he hurries towards the light. He eventually reaches a clearing in the woods where a small fire burns in the middle, next to an old tree stump.

The tree stump is occupied by a man.

“Excuse me, sir?” Peter squeaks, Aunt May’s number one rule _‘don’t talk to strangers’ _pushed to the back of his mind.

Slowly, the man turns to face him.

Peter can’t see him all that well, due to the distance and low lighting.

“What are you doing out here, little boy?”

The man’s voice sends shivers down Peter’s spine. He clutches the handle of his wicker basket tighter.

“I went to town to buy some bread, but I was distracted by a butterfly, and I wandered from the path. I can’t find my way back home, you see.” Peter tells the stranger softly, cloak fluttering in the slight wind blowing through the clearing.

“Come here, boy.”

Peter shuffles over to the man cautiously, eventually sitting down on the stump. He places his basket on the ground and adjusts his skirt before finally looking at the stranger. His face is lit ominously by the flickering fire. He’s handsome, a cropped beard and deep lines adding to his rugged appearance. His sharp, yellow eyes give Peter the chills, seeming to glow in the low light. He’s dressed in quite the dapper attire, a deep maroon suit vest over a black dress shirt with black slacks.

“What is your name?” The man asks, yellow eyes boring into Peter’s deep brown ones.

“P-Peter.” He stutters, wiping his sweaty hands on the silk of his cloak, brushing against the lace details.

“Don’t be scared, Peter,” The man coos, doing anything but calming the young boy.

Peter gulps as the stranger raises his hand to stroke his cheek.

“I’m only here to help. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbles, toying with one of Peter’s chestnut curls.

Peter nods.

“I-I live by the lake. Will you help me get there?” He stammers, voice barely a whisper.

The stranger grins, a wicked smile that spreads across his face, his pointed canines glinting.

“Anything for you,_ little red riding hood._”


	10. starker, stolen angel au; devil!tony, angel!peter, god!steve

starker, stolen angel au; devil!tony, angel!peter, god!steve

warnings: marvel characters portrayed as biblical figures, god in the eyes of the devil, stockholm syndrome if you squint, lil bit of sex, daddy kink

author’s note: these are absolutely not my feelings about God, it’s just for the angst!

  * Peter has always trusted Tony.
  * For as long as he’s been with him, about 1,400 years, he’s only ever trusted the man.
  * He understands many think Tony is bad, evil, and disgusting. (He cried when Tony first told him this, that the beings ‘up there’ devote themselves to a cause that’s against him. Peter hugged him tight.)
  * But he’s only ever known the man as caring, charismatic, and full of love.
  * Honestly, he took Peter in because others saw him as broken, when Tony saw him as beautiful.
  * He loves hearing the story about how Tony ‘saved’ him, as he likes to call it.
  * Other messengers of the Devil taunted him because of his feminine features. He found Peter beaten and bruised, knocked out cold. Tony gathered him in his arms, taking him back to his palace.
  * The rest is history.
  * Peter doesn’t actuallyremember any of that happening, since he was so injured. He doesn’t remember his life before the accident, but he’s so content now that he doesn’t really want to remember.
  * He wouldn’t trade anything for the world.
  * He spends his days wandering the castle, usually draped in an untied black silk robe and black lingerie. (That’s what mortals call it, Tony says.) He never puts on more than that, because it’s always ridiculously warm in the castle.
  * You can usually find him in the library, curled up on the leather sofa, reading a good book. He also tends to the black roses in the castle garden.
  * Although, he tries to keep the visits outside to a minimum.
  * The screams of the damned can get a little annoying after a while.
  * The highlight of his days are when Tony comes home.
  * After a long day of torturing souls, Tony loves to come home to his beautiful boy, stretched out on their four-poster bed, black lace encasing his body.
  * Peter is just as happy to please, whining eagerly for his daddy.
  * They spend most of their time together in that bedroom, Peter writhing against the black sheets as Tony pounds into him ruthlessly, moaning his name for the castle staff to hear.
  * They always make sure to sit down for dinner together, Peter perched on Tony’s lap as he’s fed various pieces of food that’s prepared by Tony’s personal cooks.
  * And then they end up back in the bedroom.
  * As much as he loves and trusts Tony, there’s one thing that constantly bugs him.
  * His wings.
  * He’s seen the messengers that come to the palace, and their wings look _nothing_ like his.
  * Their wings are thin, skin-like, and have sharp points at the ends. They’re totally black and extremely menacing.
  * Peter’s are made of feathers instead. There are feathers missing, ones that look burned and scarred. His feathers are different kinds of grey, almost as if someone poured soot over them.
  * He’s asked Tony about this many times before and he always brushes it off as a birth defect, kissing him before he can ask any more questions.
  * He just rolls with it.
  * His life is perfect, isn’t it?
  * He thought so, until one day.
  * One day he awoke to no Tony next to him, which wasn’t that odd.
  * The thing that was odd was that he felt good.
  * Like, really good.
  * His head felt clear like he could actually think straight for the first time.
  * He’s always felt a bit off in the palace, frequent headaches, and an achy body.
  * Tony chalks it up to being so close to him.
  * Peter climbed out of bed, shaken from feeling so good but ignoring it. As he opens the heavy bedroom door, he hears angry voices down the hall.
  * Tony’s is one of them.
  * Peter pads through the dark halls, nearing the room the voices are in. It’s one of the living rooms, where Peter’s collection of art is. Tony’s back is to him while he talks to someone.
  * _“Daddy?”_
  * The conversation ceases, Tony whipping around to face him.
  * He looks stunning, as usual, dressed in a casual black suit.
  * _“Princess. C’mere.”_
  * Peter shuffles over to Tony shyly, his arm wrapping around his bare waist. (Peter’s only dressed in black lace panties, but he doesn’t really mind.)
  * He finally gets a good look at the other man.
  * He’s absolutely gorgeous.
  * The first thing Peter notices is his striking blue eyes. They’re beautiful, sparkling with life like he’s never seen before. His short blonde hair is free-flowing, missing the gel that Tony always uses.
  * What shocks him the most is that he’s wearing white.
  * There are no light colors in the castle, let alone white.
  * The robes are simple, loose and falling over his body.
  * _“Peter, my goodness.”_
  * How does the man know his name? Had Tony told the man about him beforehand?
  * Peter looks up at Tony in confusion.
  * The man steps closer to them.
  * Tony pulls Peter away, creating a barrier of fire between the pair and the man.
  * Peter lets out a scream.
  * _“Don’t you fucking dare, Steven.”_
  * _“Please, Anthony, just let me see him.”_
  * Tony gets rid of the fire, placing a kiss upon Peter’s curls.
  * Steven steps closer.
  * _“Your wings.”_
  * A large hand reaches out to caress one of his feathers.
  * Peter almost jerks away, but it feels nice as Steven strokes his feathers.
  * _“You poor thing.”_
  * He glares at Tony.
  * _“How could you?”_
  * Peter folds his wings, leaning closer into Tony.
  * _“He’s fine. Now get out.”_
  * _“No, he’s not! He’s a prisoner! A slave!”_
  * Peter starts to cry. He doesn’t like yelling or being called a prisoner.
  * Tony pulls him close, kissing his jaw.
  * _“Shut the fuck up. We’ve been happy for 1,000 years. Now leave.”_
  * _“Look at his wings. They’re black. Black!”_
  * _“I see his wings! Do you think I’m fucking blind?”_
  * Tony’s eyes have turned red now, his veins glowing red under his skin.
  * Peter cries harder, burying his face into Tony’s expensive suit.
  * _“Peter, look at me. Do you remember me? Do you remember how you were kidnapped?”_
  * Peter looks up, blinking his tears away.
  * Steven grabs his wrist.
  * _“Don’t you want to come back home? I’m going to take you home.”_
  * Peter wipes away more tears.
  * _“Please don’t make me. I don’t want to go.”_
  * Peter lets out a retched sob as Tony steers him away, calling for his guards. Tony massages his shoulders as they head back to the bedroom.
  * Tony sits Peter down on the bed gently, grabbing a black fur blanket to swaddle him in.
  * _“Daddy, who was that? Why did he want to take me away?”_
  * Tony’s eyes turn dark.
  * _“That was God. He destroys lives.”_

_ _

starker/spidershield: stolen angel au!

this is the prequel/backstory 

warnings: marvel characters as biblical figures, totally biblically incorrect lmao

  * Peter didn’t want to die young.
  * He wanted to live long, make something with his life, but when you get in a car drunk off your ass with the driver drunk off _his _ass, you’re not in much luck.
  * So that’s how he found himself in Heaven.
  * When he first awoke, he was utterly confused. How could he be in his Aunt and Uncle’s house that they sold 15 years ago?
  * Why was he dressed in a silk, white tank top, and silk sleep shorts?
  * And how could he have wings?
  * He stood in front of one of the mirrors, observing the wings on his back. He ran his fingers over the white feathers, reveling in the softness of them. He was trying to adjust some of them to stop tickling his neck when there was a knock at his door.
  * And that’s how he met God.
  * When he puts it like that, it sounds way grander and life-altering than it was.
  * That’s why God prefers _Steve_, so,
  * That’s how he met _Steve_.
  * He opened his door to greet the man, instantly taken by his beauty. He was all sharp lines, but his blue eyes were soft and caring. His clean-cut blonde hair seemed to sparkle in the sun, tan skin contrasting against his simple, white robes.
  * _“Peter.”_
  * _“H-Hi.”_
  * Steve laughed his deep laugh.
  * _“May I come in?”_
  * Looking back, Peter probably should have been a better host, but he was too confused to think straight.
  * Steve guided him to his own kitchen table, saying he needed to sit down for what he was about to tell him. In a soft voice, Steve explained how he passed in a car crash, and he’s now an angel in Heaven. He reassured Peter that his Uncle and parents were here to greet him.
  * So that’s how he ended up here, in Steve’s own cabin, sprawled out on his bed in only white lace panties, wings folded behind him as he naps on his stomach.
  * He’s asked Steve many times before if they’re allowed to be together, his few visits to church reminding him of the seven deadly sins. Steve always just kisses him and says that everyone needs to indulge sometimes.
  * _“Baby,”_
  * Steve nudges Peter’s bare shoulder, awaking the young boy.
  * Peter groans and stretches his wings, brushing against Steve’s robes. He reaches out and grabs Steve’s large hand, pulling him down to sit on the bed.
  * _“‘M not feeling good, Steve.”_
  * Steve’s brows furrow in confusion.
  * _“What?”_
  * Peter sits up, looking at Steve.
  * _“My brain feels all fuzzy. And my stomach is a little woozy.”_
  * Heaven is supposed to be a safe haven, an escape from the hardships of life. It’s supposed to be free of disease and sickness, a thank you for what you did in your life.
  * _“That’s…odd.”_
  * Steve presses a kiss to the boy’s temple, running his fingers through those soft curls.
  * _“I was going to bring you to the support group meeting, but I guess you can stay here until I get back. Maybe you’re just in a bit of a funk.”_
  * Peter giggles and kisses Steve’s freshly shaven cheek.
  * _“Yeah. A funk.”_
  * Steve smiles and presses his lips to the boy’s, a soft, tender kiss.
  * _“I’ve got to go. I love you.”_
  * _“Love you too.”_
  * Steve leaves the cabin, Peter immediately falling back asleep.
  * When the boy awakes again, it’s pitch black in the cabin. His head is pounding and he feels his stomach lurch. He stumbles out of bed, searching for the lamp, but his hand never reaches the cool metal.
  * His head whips around and his blood runs cold when he sees someone standing in the doorway.
  * _“Steve?”_
  * Deep down Peter knows that’s _definitely _not Steve.
  * _“Peter.”_
  * The voice is chilling, nothing like the soft, smooth voice of his lover. Peter lets out a little whimper, hand colliding with the lamp.
  * The light turns on, giving Peter a better look at who is in the doorway.
  * It’s a man and he’s dressed in an all-black suit. Peter hasn’t seen the color black in a long time.
  * _“Who are you?”_
  * Peter’s hands are shaking as the man stalks closer to his bed. He’s almost the opposite of Steve. His eyes are a dark brown, almost black, cold and void of life. His hair is a dark brown, like his eyes, with streaks of grey running through it. His beard reflects his hair, more grey than brown.
  * _“I’ve had my eye on you for a long time, Peter.”_
  * The man sits on the edge of the bed.
  * _“W-What?”_
  * _“You know who I am in my true form. Just call me Tony, please.”_
  * Tony reaches out to stroke Peter’s right wing. It burns, and Peter lets out a scream.
  * _“D-Don’t hurt me!”_
  * Tony chuckles and grabs his wrist. Peter screams and sobs, too weak to pull away.
  * _“I’m the Devil, Saint Peter. And you’re coming with me.”_


	11. winterironspider; conspiracy theories and kisses

conspiracy theories and kisses

  
winterironspider

warnings: drug use (weed), daddy kink

“I’ve got another one. Saved by the Bell? The Illuminati made it.”

Peter erupts in a fit of giggles at his own comment, causing Bucky to let out a deep chuckle that rumbles against the younger’s head. Tony sighs and shakes his head, taking another hit of his blunt.

“I need proof, baby.” He quips, reaching out with his free hand to ruffle Peter’s chestnut curls.

Peter hums and bites his lip, snuggling his face into Bucky’s chest.

“It was something with the theme song. I can’t really remember.” He tells the two, dainty hands running up Bucky’s back.

The trio is squished together on Bucky’s couch that’s littered with burns and stains. This is how they usually spend their evenings, cuddled together in the living room and passing around a blunt. Well, Tony and Bucky sharing a blunt, because Peter refuses to directly smoke it.

He instead opts for shotgunning, claiming that he’s not _technically _smoking.

“Give it, Stark,” Bucky orders the other boy, sticking out his real hand. Tony smirks and hands the blunt to Bucky, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.

Bucky just grunts, raising the joint to his lips. Peter whines and pulls on the collar of his muscle tank. Bucky inhales, keeping the smoke trapped inside his mouth, and Peter tilts his head up to press his soft, moisturized lips to Bucky’s. They both part their lips at the same time, the exchange of smoke almost connecting the two. Peter inhales and pulls back, letting out a few tiny coughs. Bucky rubs his back with his metal hand, soothing the boy.

“You good?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, brushing one of Peter’s stray curls out of his lovely eyes.

The boy makes a high pitched noise in his throat, then proceeds to giggle.

“You are _too_ cute. C’mere, Barnes has had you long enough.” Tony grunts, patting his lap with the hand that’s not wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders.

With a happy noise, Peter shifts his position so he’s straddling Tony.

“I’m getting a beer,” Bucky tells the two, pushing himself up off the couch to head to the kitchen.

Peter sighs and rests his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Hi, daddy.”

Tony grins and pulls Peter close.

“Hi, baby.”

Peter hums happily as he burrows his face in Tony’s neck. Tony’s large hands end up resting over the swell of the boy’s ass, covered by pink lace panties. Tony loves Peter’s loungewear, usually consisting of either Tony or Bucky’s shirts, panties, and mismatched socks.

“I _love_ you,” Peter sings softly, voice muffled.

Tony’s heart swells.

“I love you too, baby boy.” He responds, thick fingers toying with Peter’s hair.

“The Beatles never broke up. It’s a whole thing.” Bucky suddenly says from the kitchen.

Peter picks his head off of Tony’s shoulder. 

“What?”

“It’s another theory, doll,” Bucky tells him, taking a sip of his Budweiser.

Peter throws his head back and laughs loudly, honey brown eyes scrunching up.

“You’re _dumb_.” He giggles, red-rimmed eyes peering at Bucky.

“Am not! You’re bein’ mean, darlin’.” Bucky drawls, walking over to the couch to give Peter a quick kiss.

“Hey, you’re hogging that.” Tony interrupts, gesturing to the lit blunt between Bucky’s fingers.

The man rolls his eyes, wrapping one arm around Peter’s head as the younger nuzzles into his stomach.

“We have more, dumbass. Now come here and give me a kiss.”

Bucky leans in and presses a kiss to Tony’s lips, chapped like his own.

“Not fair! I want kisses too.” Peter whines, mouthing at Tony’s neck.

“Hush. We’ve both got lots of kisses to go around.” Tony tells him once they pull away, Bucky pulling his hair up into a bun.

“Good. Because I want a lot of them.”


	12. starker; naive!peter x rogue!tony, with robot!steve

father

words: idk

warnings: none, really 

author’s note: I really fucking hate this

this is heavily inspired by I Am Mother, 10 Cloverfield Lane, and Passengers. They are all great movies that you should watch! The poem featured (in italics) is titled “Fear of the Future” by John Koethe. If any of you get pissy I can properly cite it.

——

_In the end one simply withdraws_

_From others and time, one’s own time,_

——

“Son, are you paying attention?”

Peter blinks a few times and shakes himself out of his thoughts.

“My apologies, Father.” He responds, pressing his hands to the cold countertop of the metal table, steadying them.

“You will not pass your exam if you keep this up.” Father tells him for the hundredth time.

Peter swallows thickly.

“Father, I-“ He starts, but quickly cuts himself off.

The empty classroom is silent, except for the sound of Peter’s heavy breathing. It seems to bounce off the white walls, amplifying his nerves.

“What is it, son?” Father asks, leaning forward and causing a metallic sound to ring out. “You know you can ask me anything. I will not be mad.”

Peter looks up at Father.

As much as he looks like a human, his smile is emotionless and mechanical.

“I don’t understand why I have to take exams. If I am the only one left, why does it matter?” Peter finally asks.

Father doesn’t drop his smile. His unnatural blue eyes shine as he speaks.

“They measure how well I am teaching you. They can only help you, my son.”

Peter nods slowly, staring into those glowing eyes. Father reaches forward, taking Peter’s small hand in his robotic one. His right hand is void of the fake skin that covers his skeleton, leaving a robotic limb exposed. His mechanical fingers curl around Peter’s. As much as it is unnerving, Peter likes Father’s bare hand. Father tells him that the extinct humans modeled him after their ideal man, blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, and muscular. The exposed skeleton makes Father feel a little more real.

A little more flawed.

“Now, answer the question. 5 people are ill, but have the necessary organs to save one person of influence. On the other hand, the one person of influence has the necessary organs to save all five of the others, but will lose their life. What is the most ethical thing to do?”

“Easy. The person of influence should give up their life for the greater good.”

Father smiles.

“Good boy.”

——

_Becoming an imaginary Everyman_

_Inhabiting a few rooms, personifying_

——

Nothing goes bump in the night in their sanctuary.

That’s what Peter thought, anyways.

But a loud banging noise awakes him from his sleep. Peter sits up in bed, startled. His eyes dart around his pitch black room, looking for an indication of the noise. The banging doesn’t seem damaging enough to set off an alarm, so Father is still asleep. Peter reaches over to turn his bedside lamp on, an unnatural white glow lighting up the room. The room is untouched, glass door tightly sealed, closet doors unopened. Peter leans over to the crisp white side table, reaching inside it’s drawer to grab a flashlight. He slips out from under the white comforter, bare feet landing on the fluffy ivory rug. The banging starts up again. As quietly as he can, Peter shuffles towards his bedroom door, pressing the button to the side of it, the door opening with a soft _whoosh_. He looks down the hall, trying to find where the sound is coming from. He listens intently and it seems the banging is coming from,

_The Airlock?_

Peter furrows his brow.

There’s never any disturbance by the airlock, because, well, it’s an airlock.

His feet guide him to the airlock, since Peter knows the sanctuary like the back of his hand. The banging gets louder as he approaches, becoming clear and crisp as the door to the airlock room opens. Peter shines his flashlight on the giant metal doors, protecting him and Father from the contagion outside. The sound of something on metal rings through the room.

Slowly, Peter approaches the secure doors. He has to stand on his tippy toes to reach the small window, so he does and shines his light through the glass. What he sees makes him gasp and drop his flashlight.

There’s someone there.

Banging on the doors.

“Hey! Let me in!” The thing shouts, banging on the doors harder.

Peter is frozen as he tries to think of what to do.

If the thing is a robot, like Father, it’ll most likely be able to get inside on its own eventually. Opening the door for it would set off the alarm, causing Father to catch him and punish him.

But, if the thing is dangerous, Father will be able to protect him.

Peter presses the button next to the double doors and turns the key.

The alarm starts blaring, flashing red as the doors open slowly. Before the doors even lift up half way, the entity is scrambling underneath them.

“You couldn’t have gotten here faster?” The thing spits. He looks roughed up, torn clothes and dirt smeared on his face. Peter’s heart catches in his chest when he sees a fresh, open wound underneath his eye, and a bigger one on his left arm.

He’s human.

Peter’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to think of something to say. Both of them turn their head when they hear the sound of metal hitting the floor.

“Father!” Peter yelps as the doors to the airlock room slide open.

“A _fucking _droid?” The man hisses, reaching for the gun strapped onto his waist.

“Wait!” Peter yells, running in front of Father as the man cocks his gun.

“What the hell are you doing? Don’t you want to be saved?” The man sneers, hands shaking as he holds up his gun.

“Son, move out of the way.” Father says from behind him.

“Please. We want to help. Put the gun down.” Peter says softly, ignoring Father.

The man looks at him wildly, red light illuminating his face. Slowly, he lowers the gun, turning the safety on and tossing it on the ground.

“Turn that fucking alarm off so help me god.”

——

_The urge to tend one’s garden,_

_A character of no strong attachments_

——

The only sound in the cafeteria is the clanking of the man’s fork on his tray. After the alarm was shut off, all he would grumble about was food. Father told Peter to take him to the cafeteria and get him dinner.

He hasn’t said a word, just grunts.

“You just gonna fucking stare at me, huh?” The man says through a mouthful of corn.

Peter gulps.

“I’m not allowed to leave you alone. I apologize.” He says softly.

The man shorts and rolls his sunken eyes. He takes another spoonful of his corn.

“Do you have a name?” Peter finally asks, fidgeting in the metal chair.

The man inhales, dropping his fork and leaning back in his chair.

“Tony.” The man, Tony, says, outstretching his hand that’s wrapped in a frayed bandage.

“Peter.” Peter responds, shaking Tony’s hand.

“I’m taking a shower. Thank you for your hospitality,” Tony mumbles, clearly not at all grateful.

Peter stands up quickly.

“There are private living spaces with showers. I can show you there. See, this place was built for-“

“Yeah, I’m aware. I can get there on my own.” Tony interrupts, pushing his tray towards Peter as he stands.

“But sir,” Peter rushes after Tony as he walks toward the main doors. “It’s a confusing layout. Let me show you there. You’ll get lost.”

Tony whips around, grabbing Peter’s wrist, twisting it slightly. The boy lets out a little yelp.

“Listen here you little shit,” Tony growls, face inches away from Peter’s, “I’m fully capable of getting around in here. I’m the one who fucking funded it, for God’s sake. Now, leave me the _fuck _alone or I’ll break your tiny little wrist.”

Peter is left speechless as Tony drops his wrist and walks away.

——

_Who made nothing happen, and to whom_

_Nothing ever actually happened—a fictitious_

_Man whose life was over from the start,_

——

“He is getting used to the changes in his life. Give him some time.”

Father squeezes Peter’s leg from where he’s sitting on the end of the bed.

“I know,” Peter says solemnly, “I just want to talk to him. Human to human.”

Father nods at these words.

“Did you know?”

“I’m just as surprised as you are, son. Get some rest. You can try to speak to our guest tomorrow.” Father says as he stands up.

“I must charge. Goodnight, my son.”

“Goodnight, Father.”

——

_Like a diary or a daybook whose poems_

_And stories told the same story over_

_And over again, or no story. The pictures_

——

“Why did you choose Tony?”

Tony looks at him in confusion, then hisses as Peter dabs his cheek wound with peroxide.

“What do you mean?” Tony asks, wincing as Peter covers the wound with a bandage.

“Well, I chose my name after Peter Rabbit. Father always read that to me as a child.” Peter tells Tony.

The older man chuckles and shakes his head.

“That’s cute.” He grunts, calloused fingers drifting over the bandage.

“Hey! Are you teasing me?” Peter giggles, sifting through one of the drawers to get a new roll of bandages.

“Not one bit. And in real life your parents choose your name.”

Peter sighs.

This _is_ real life.

“I don’t have parents. Just Father.” He says quietly, unwrapping the worn bandage that encases Tony’s hand.

Tony rolls his eyes.

He seems to do that a lot.

“Would you stop with the father thing? It’s a droid. Not your dad.” Tony grumbles.

Peter is hurt.

“He’s taken care of me all my life. He’s never lied to me, has never hurt me.”

“Bullshit.” Tony growls, “It’s been telling you that humans are extinct. But look at me. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Peter doesn’t say anything.

“I try to be a sympathetic man. So I’ll give you some sympathy. You deserve to live with other humans. Have some interaction for once in your goddamn life.”

Tony is now pacing around the room.

“Come with me. Back home. I’ve got 100 people living in one of these sanctuaries a few miles away. There’s room for one more.”

Peter looks into Tony’s stormy eyes.

“What about the virus?”

Angrily, Tony pushes over the metal supply cart. It falls to the floor with a bang.

“There’s no virus! Can’t you see?”

Tony grips Peter by the collar of his white t-shirt.

“No virus, no disease, nothing. Just droids.”

——

_And paintings hang crooked on the walls,_

_The limbs beneath the sheets are frail and cold_

——

“Your tags.”

Tony looks up from his tray of chicken.

“May I see them?” Peter asks, setting down his fork.

Wordlessly, Tony sets down his utensils and takes off the dog tags, bandaged hands brushing the leather of the jacket he refuses to remove. He drops the tags into Peter’s cupped hands, cool metal against his skin.

Peter lifts up the tags, thumb grazing over the raised letters.

_Barnes, James Buchanan_

The rest of the words don’t mean anything to him.

“Who’s James?” Peter asks, lowering his voice when he hears a door open nearby.

“Bucky. He went by Bucky.” Tony says, avoiding Peter’s eyes.

“Who’s Bucky, then?”

Tony rubs his face.

“He was my husband. Died 3 years ago. Can we stop talking about this?”

Peter gives back his dog tags.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I overreacted.” Tony grunts, finishing the rest of his apple juice.

Father enters the room.

“Is there anywhere private we can go?”

——

_And morning is an exercise in memory_

——

“Wow, you talk so much. I’m tired from listening to you talk.”

Peter giggles and flops down onto his bed, lying next to Tony.

“I’ve just got a lot to say.”

Tony smiles as he looks at the ceiling.

He smiles a lot more now.

Peter turns his head so he’s face to face with Tony.

“Lot going on in that pretty head of yours?” Tony asks, brushing a stray curl out of Peter’s eyes.

“Guess so,” Peter responds, face heating up.

Tony’s hand caresses his cheek gently.

“I’m guessing you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Peter turns his attention back to the ceiling.

“Hey,” Tony says softly, turning Peter’s face back to his own, “Would you want to try?”

Peter nods slowly, lips parted. Before he knows it, Tony’s lips are pressed to his. He melts into the older man’s touch, loving the feeling of his beard. Peter decides he could do this forever. Tony’s hand gently rests on Peter’s hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb. His tongue probes against Peter’s closed lips and the boy decides to open his lips slightly. Tony slips his tongue into Peter’s mouth with a groan. Lightly, Peter pushes Tony down so he’s lying on his back, climbing to straddle his lap.

“Holy hell.” Tony breathes once they part.

“Yeah,” Peter says, hands resting on his chest.

“Yeah,” Tony repeats.

Peter erupts in a fit of giggles, lying on Tony’s chest.

“Can’t wait to come home with you.”

“Me neither.”

——

_Of a long failure, and of the years_

——

“Let us go or I kill him.”

Peter lets out a sob as Tony tightens his grip on Peter’s throat. They’ve rehearsed this before, yet it is still frightening to have the cold barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.

Father doesn’t say anything, just watches.

“Open that fucking door goddammit!” Tony screams, yanking Peter closer to the door.

Silently, Father presses the button to the airlock doors. Once they’re open, Tony pulls Peter out into the open. The ground is dirt, no grass to be seen. There are a few withered trees, bare of leaves.

As the doors close, Peter catches a glimpse of Father.

He sobs.

Tony presses kisses to his cheeks, wiping away his tears as they fall to the ground.

“I’m here. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

——

_Mirrored in the face of the immaculate_

_Child who can’t believe he’s old._


	13. starker; tattoo artist!tony x punk fem!peter

## skulls and flowers

starker; tattoo artist!tony x punk fem!peter

warnings: daddy kink

“James! Are you avoidin’ me?”

Tony watches as Bucky stops his trip to the front door to turn and face the source of the question.

“I’d never, doll. You know that.” He responds, crossing his thick, tattooed arms over his chest.

Peter smirks, clearly satisfied with the answer, and pops his red lollipop back in his mouth. Both men can’t help but watch as Peter, with red stained lips, sucks on the candy. The boy is a vision, as he usually is, tiny black shorts and a crop top with the Barbie logo on it as his outfit of choice for the day. His long, milky white legs dangle off the countertop where he’s perched, pink Doc Martens swinging slightly.

“You like what you see, Barnes?” Tony calls out from his work station where he’s cleaning his supplies.

“Daddy!” Peter squeals, curls bouncing ever so slightly. The black jeweled bobby pins do nothing to hold his unruly hair back.

“How could I not?” Bucky quips, winking at the boy as he heads behind the front desk.

Peter rolls his eyes, giving Tony a look. Tony just smirks and goes back to cleaning his work station.

“I’m heading out, boss. See you tomorrow.” Bucky grunts as he shrugs on his leather jacket, opening the glass front doors causing the bell to ring.

“See ya!”

“Bye James!”

Tony thinks Peter calls Bucky by his first name just to annoy him. Of course, Bucky would never say anything, since no one wants to hurt Peter’s feelings.

“Can we go now?” Peter whines, tossing his chewed lollipop stick into the trash can. Surprisingly, it makes it in.

“Attitude.” Tony grunts, wiping the top of his cart with a Clorox wipe.

“Yeah, okay.” Peter huffs and Tony can bet he’s rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me?” The older man asks, looking up at his boy, raising his eyebrows. Peter’s eyes grow wide.

“Sorry daddy!” He squeaks, hopping off the front desk with a thud.

“Damn straight,” Tony mumbles under his breath, standing up to go wash his hands. As the soap and water cascade down his tattooed hands, thin arms wrap around his torso. He laughs as Peter squeezes him tight, pressing his face into Tony’s back.

“Ready to go, baby?” Tony asks, turning around and pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple. The boy nods, unwrapping his arms and skipping to the door. Tony turns the lights off and checks that the store safe is locked before grabbing his leather jacket from the coat rack.

“Did you bring a jacket?” Tony asks Peter, pulling on his crop top gently. Peter shakes his head, looking down at his shoes. Tony makes a _tsk tsk _noise and drapes his jacket over the boy’s shoulders.

“Thanks!” Peter exclaims, standing on his tippy toes to press a kiss to Tony’s bearded cheek.

“It’s winter, babe. I don’t want you getting sick.” Tony grunts as he wraps his bare arm around Peter’s torso. They walk outside, freezing cold New York air washing over them. Tony stops to lock up shop, Peter trying to drag him home. Tony slips the keys into his pocket, taking one last look at the _Iron Man Tattoos and Piercings _sign above the door.

“You’re so _slow_, daddy.” Peter huffs as they walk to their shared apartment. It’s only a few blocks away, neither a car or bike necessary. The fresh air is nice after being cooped up all day.

“Hush, you.” Tony teases, squeezing Peter’s side. Peter sighs and rolls his eyes, but still leans his head on Tony’s chest.

They eventually reach their hole in the wall apartment that they both call home. Tony is glad to finally be in the warmth, rubbing his tattooed arms to speed up the process. Peter is already practically naked, ditching his outfit and shoes as soon as they get inside. He’s left in black panties, a black velvet collar, and Star Wars themed socks. The boy bounds over to Tony, hanging his leather jacket up next to the door, before capturing the man in a kiss. Tony groans and kisses Peter back, gripping his ass and kneading it in his hands. Unfortunately, his boy pulls away.

“Just cuddles tonight, okay?” Peter says, cupping Tony’s cheek in his tiny hand.

Tony may be a little disappointed, since his boy is looking like a snack and he wants to make love to him. But, he’ll manage.

“Yeah. Of course.” Tony replies softly, grazing his lips over Peter’s forehead. He giggles softly, taking Tony’s hand and leading him to the bedroom. Peter jumps onto the bed, snuggling under the covers and adjusting the pillows. Tony kicks off his Vans and wiggles out of his skinny jeans. He pulls his AC/DC shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor in a hurry. He climbs in bed, Peter immediately drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“Comfy.” The younger mumbles, snuggling his face into Tony’s chest and wrapping his arms around the older man. Tony chuckles and presses a kiss to his mop of curls.

“Do you want me to put a movie on?” Tony asks softly, running his hand along Peter’s bicep. Peter just shrugs and Tony can tell he’s tired because his eyes are already starting to droop.

“Long day?” He asks, fingers grazing the red carnations that are etched into the boy’s pale skin. Peter nods, pressing a quick kiss to the skull tattoo (done by Tony’s ex-husband) that’s on his chest.

“I love you.” Tony whispers, knowing Peter will be out like a light soon.

“Love you too, Daddy.” Peter mumbles, barely audible. After a long silence, his breathing gets heavier and soon he’s asleep. Tony sits there, tracing the flowers that litter the young man’s arms. Peter looks like an angel, face relaxed and curls splayed out against Tony’s scarred chest. Tony thinks of how much he loves his boy and their future. The sounds of New York traffic soon lull him to sleep, but not before he can mumble,

“I’m going to marry you one day.”


	14. starker; at the copa, copacabana

## at the copa, copacabana

starker, song fic

Copacabana by Barry Manilow

words: 2k

warnings: this song is DARK! there’s going to be: non consensual touching, mob activity, someone being shot, drinking, and a slight daddy kink

author’s note: my friends and I were playing just dance for the nostalgia, and this song just screamed starker.

_Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl_

_With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there_

_She would merengue and do the cha-cha_

Peter loves dancing.

He loves being on stage, the bright lights adding extra warmth to his pale skin, making the jewels on his wrists and neck sing. He loves being entranced by the music, hips swaying and feet moving like second nature.

Sure, he doesn’t like standing on a stage in front of a bunch of seedy old men in a skimpy, glitzy dress and dancing, but he has to make money somehow.

Besides, he makes the most out of it. He always pins yellow feathers into his hair, never going a night without his favorite color. He likes the dresses he wears, usually black with sparkly jewels dangling off it. He can’t see the audience, due to the lights being so bright, which helps with the awkwardness of it all.

His job isn’t that bad.

_And while she tried to be a star_

_Tony always tended bar_

Tony hates making drinks.

It’s exhausting, his brainpower being wasted on making a martini when he could be making more robots or AI. He never wanted to be a bartender, but he has to earn money to live.

Honestly, his job’s not too bad, he’s able to watch the showgirls dancing in their skimpy outfits, and Bucky splits most of the work evenly.

Unfortunately, most of the guests are incredibly rude. They all think that the $10 entry fee gets them high-class service. Tony can only begrudgingly do what they ask, whether it’s a request for a drink that doesn’t exist or some sort of food that they don’t serve.

His job is the worse.

_Across the crowded floor, they worked from eight til four_

_They were young and they had each other_

_Who could ask for more?_

“Hey, Mister.”

Tony looks up from where he’s crouched under the bar, searching for a specific liquor he could have sworn they carried. Peter is leaned over the bar, chestnut curls damp from his time on stage. He’s smiling, the same smile he always has after dancing, one that lights up his face with left over adrenaline.

“Hey, you.” Tony says with a wink, standing up and wiping his hands on his apron. Peter smiles softly, tucking stray curl behind his ear. He looks gorgeous, as usual, a yellow feather boa wrapped around his dainty shoulders.

“You see my show, Tony?” Peter asks, his Queens accent heavy on his name. Tony loves how Peter says his name, he could listen to it all day and never get bored.

“Course I did.” He hums, reaching over to take Peter’s manicured hand in his. He gives it a little squeeze, Peter sighing happily. Tony starts to lean over to give the boy a kiss, but they’re broken up by Peter’s boss.

“Parker! The closet needs organizing!”

Peter looks over to where his boss is standing. He goes by Kingpin, incredibly overweight and always dressed in suits from Goodwill.

“Got it!” Peter shouts back, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve got to go. See ya.” The boy huffs, letting go of Tony’s hand and heading to his boss.

“See ya.”

_At the copa, Copacabana_

_The hottest spot north of Havana_

_At the copa, Copacabana_

_Music and passion were always the fashion_

“You’re so gorgeous.” Tony whispers, leaving butterfly kisses down Peter’s neck.

The boy just rolls his eyes, taking his dangly silver earring out of his ear. He places it in the ceramic plate Tony got him for his birthday. It’s gold and has an illustration of a dog saying “I Ruff You”.

“Shut up, Tony.” He mumbles, taking out his other earring. Peter reaches for a clean washcloth, but Tony stops him.

“Woah woah woah,” Tony says, turning Peter around in his arms. His eyebrows are knitted in confusion and worry as his swipes his thumb over Peter’s red stained lips. “Why the long face?” He asks, Peter looking at the floor.

“Are you just saying that to make me happy? That I’m gorgeous?” Peter asks softly, still not meeting Tony’s eyes.

“Hey.” Tony coos, lifting Peter’s head by the chin. His honey brown eyes shine with oncoming tears, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever laid my eyes own. Don’t doubt that, even for a second.”

Peter smiles.

_At the copa, they fell in love_

“Good luck baby!” Tony calls out after Peter, watching as his boy wiggles his hips and winks at the older man. Tony shakes his head as he wipes down the wine glass in his hand. Peter waltzes towards the side of the stage, wrapping his yellow feather boa tighter around his arms. There are a few wolf whistles from the crowd and Tony feels a jealous heat rise in his chest.

“You’re a lucky man, Stark.” Bucky grunts from next to him, flipping the cocktail shaker that’s in his large hands.

“Yeah,” Tony breathes, “I’m a lucky man.”

_His name was Rico_

_He wore a diamond_

_He was escorted to his chair, he saw Lola dancing there_

“Here, Mister Strange. Right this way.”

Stephen glares at the young man who’s dressed in all black for work, hands shaking wildly as he gestures to the front of the stage.

“That’s _Doctor _Strange to you, boy.” He growls, twisting his large diamond ring impatiently.

The kid’s eyes grow wide with fear.

“I am so, so, sorry Doctor Strange. I’m such an idiot.” He starts, face flushed in embarrassment.

“Hush.” Stephen snaps, “I don’t want to hear your self pity. Get me to my chair and never talk to me again.”

The boy goes pale and ushers Stephen to his reserved seat. The man sits down, taking a sip of the bourbon he was handed when he walked in.

The house lights suddenly grow darker than before and the stage lights turn on. A gorgeous young man climbs on stage, smiling sheepishly. The crowd claps and Stephen makes sure to whistle. The familiar tune of _Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy _by the Andrews Sisters starts to play out of the speakers and the young man drops the yellow boa around his shoulders. He starts dancing, hips swaying and feet moving. The bright lights make the jewels on his nude leotard sparkle, almost putting Stephen in some sort of trance.

He blows a kiss to the crowd.

_And when she finished, he called her over_

_But Rico went a bit to far_

_Tony sailed across the bar_

“Parker! Get your ass over here.” Kingpin hisses from next to the stage steps when Peter finishes his dance. His heart starts beating rapidly, since he’s not sure what he did wrong.

“Doctor Strange wants to speak with you.” He grumbles, leaning down so he’s face to face with Peter.

“Like, the m-mob boss?” Peter stammers, eyes growing wide.

“Yeah. Don’t fuck it up.” Kingpin growls, grasping Peter’s tiny wrist in his chubby hand. He pulls Peter to the front of the stage, where the one and only Stephen Strange is lounging.

“Peter. A pleasure.” Strange purrs, leaning forward to shake the boy’s hand. His hand is deeply scarred, a weird contrast against Peter’s baby smooth one.

Never in a million years did Peter think he’d be talking to the man who killed his Uncle Ben, but here he is.

He hopes Ben is laughing wherever he is.

“Hi, Doctor Strange.” Peter responds, dropping his hand like it burnt him. Strange grins wickedly, blue eyes sparkling with an emotion Peter can’t comprehend.

“Please, sweetheart, call me Stephen.” He says, the pet name putting a bad taste in Peter’s mouth. But, he’ll be in deep shit if he doesn’t comply.

“Okay, Stephen.” He giggles, rubbing his neck awkwardly, trying to act like he’s flirting. Stephen seems content with the answer.

“C’mere. I want to get to know you.” Stephen orders, patting his lap. Peter flushes a deep scarlet, but lowers himself onto the dangerous man’s lap.

“You were beautiful up there.” Stephen mumbles, lips grazing against Peter’s ear. Goosebumps spread across his body from the touch.

“Thank you, sir.” Peter says softly, watching in discomfort as Stephen rests his hand on the inside of Peter thigh. The gold brass knuckles that he dons are cool against Peter’s skin and he wonders if it’s even legal to have them.

Stephen doesn’t really do legal, though.

As his hand inches further up Peter’s thigh, there’s a shout.

“Strange!”

_And then the punches flew and chairs were smashed in two_

Everything’s a blur as Stephen pushes him off his lap, Peter colliding with the floor as the older man stands up to face Tony. He can only watch and clutch his throbbing wrist as Stephen punches Tony, the sound of skin on skin, shouts, and the Mills Brothers filling the club. Peter’s vision fills with tears as he watches Tony get beaten to a pulp. It’s a very Tony thing to do. Take on the most feared crime lord in New York City, that is.

_There was blood and a single gun shot_

_But just who shot who?_

Peter screams when he hears the shot that leaves a ringing in his ears. He scrambles off the hardwood floor, pushing his way through the crowd of men to reach the two. Stephen is putting his handgun back in his suit pocket, grinning wickedly. Peter doesn’t acknowledge him, just chokes back a sob when he sees his Tony lying on the wooden floor. He falls to his knees, sending a shooting pain through his legs, but he doesn’t care as he takes Tony’s head and cradles it in his lap.

“Tony baby, talk to me.” He hiccups, pressing his hand to the wound in Tony’s abdomen. Blood seeps through his fingers, but he doesn’t really care.

“Hey, you.” Tony coughs, smiling softly as blood dribbles down his chin from the large cut on his lip.

“You idiot.” Peter giggles, hot tears falling down his cheeks and onto Tony’s black work shirt.

“Your idiot.” Tony snaps back. Peter runs his fingers through Tony’s dark hair silently.

“My idiot. Forever.”

“Forever.”

_At the copa, Copacabana_

_The hottest spot north of Havana_

_At the copa, Copacabana_

_Music and passion were always the fashion_

_At the copa, she lost her love_

“Wonderful job, baby.”

Peter giggles and bounces over to Stephen, clutching onto his silk clad arm.

“Thanks, daddy.” He says softly, nuzzling into Stephen’s side.

As the older man leads them to the front doors, Peter glances at the faded stain on hardwood floor.

_Her name is Lola, she was a showgirl_

_But that was thirty years ago, when they used to have a show_

**The Daily Bugle: Copacabana Club closes after 20 years of business, remodeled as Lime Disco and Bar.**

_Now it’s a disco, but not for Lola_

_Still in dress she used to wear_

_Faded feathers in her hair_

“You’ve got to stop wallowing.”

Peter looks up from his drink, meeting the chocolate brown eyes of his favorite bartender.

“No.” He huffs, finishing the last of his cocktail.

“Whatever, Peter.” Morgan huffs, turning around to finish washing glasses.

Peter tucks a curl behind his ear, fingers brushing against a pinned feather.

_She sits there so refined, and drinks herself half-blind_

_She lost her youth and she lost her Tony_

_Now she’s lost her mind_

“Another tequila, Morg.” Peter grunts, pushing his empty martini glass towards the girl. She rolls her eyes, fixes her headband, and snatches the empty glass. She pours the cheap liquor into a shot glass, handing it to Peter.

“Have I ever told you this one story?”

_At the copa, Copacabana_

_The hottest spot north of Havana_

_At the copa, Copacabana_

_Music and passion were always in fashion_

_At the copa,_

“Every time, Pete.”

“And what do I say, every time?”

_Don’t fall in love_


	15. starker song fic: getting heavy with the devil

## getting heavy with the devil

starker songfic for going to hell by the pretty reckless

devil!tony x punk!peter

warnings: peter is a brat, talking about killing people, quick smut

_Father did you miss me,_

_Been locked up a while._

_I got caught for what I did but took it all in style._

Anthony doesn’t understand why people can’t just do their fucking jobs.

To them, it’s no big deal if they don’t strangle long enough or start the fire a little too late. But for Anthony, that means he has to make room in his busy schedule to come all the way up to the surface to take their lives instead.

So, that’s how he ended up in line for some grungy nightclub, on a mission to slip a _few_ tablets into some dude named Harry Osborn’s drink.

“Fuck you too!”

The people in line don’t bat an eye, but Anthony tries to peer over the tall guy in front of him.

Curse his shortness.

An absolutely _gorgeous_ young man stomps away from the front of the line, angrily throwing what looks like an ID on the ground. His red-painted lips are turned down in an intense pout. His platform combat boots clunk on the ground as he makes his way to the curb, sitting down on the concrete. Anthony licks his lips as he catches a glimpse of a sliver of milky white skin.

Anthony has a hard time staying away from pretty things.

He stalks his way over to the curb, lowering himself down onto the dirty edge.

“Fake ID not good enough?” Anthony purrs, watching the boy light the cigarette that’s between his lips. He glares at Anthony, honey brown eyes framed by intricate eyeshadow.

“It’s _so_ unfair.” The boy complains, smoke pooling out of his mouth. “Of course Harry gets in and I don’t.”

Could that be the Harry he was looking for?

“How about I take you somewhere nicer? This place is too grimy for someone like you,” Anthony flirts, thick calloused fingers grazing over the fishnet stockings on the boy’s legs. He takes a very long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Anthony’s face.

“Fine. But you’re paying.”

_Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when._

_Now I’m versed in so much worse,_

_So I am back again, and he said_

“You little minx.”

Peter giggles as Anthony nips at the soft skin of his neck.

“Only for you, Anthony,” Peter says, rubbing his ass against the front of Anthony’s crotch. The older man groans and chuckles, tightening his grip on Peter’s chestnut curls. He presses against Peter harder, sucking a new bruise onto his neck.

“Guess what?” Peter breathes as Anthony nips down his neck.

“What, princess?” Anthony responds, rolling his hips forward slowly. Peter whines high in his throat.

“Harry tried to get in my pants today. I told him I was taken.” He tells Anthony, hips bucking forward against the black Mercedes slightly.

“All mine. Should have killed him when I got the chance.”

Anthony feels Peter tense underneath him.

“What?”

_Shit_.

“Nothing, baby.” He tries to mutter, squeezing Peter’s bulge gently. The younger boy moans and leans back into Anthony.

“No, _what did you say?_” Peter insists, still rocking against the car.

No better time than now.

“Said I was going to get rid of him. When I was in that line at the club? Had a little something to slip in his drink.” He growls, continuing the slow roll of his hips. Peter moans loudly, gripping the hood of the car as his hips stutter.

Oh.

_Oh_.

Anthony can work with that.

_For the lives that I take, I’m going to hell!_

_For the love that I make, I’m going to hell!_

“Take me.”

Before Anthony can respond, Peter pecks his dry lips three times.

“It’s too dangerous, baby,” Anthony hums, twirling a honey brown curl around his finger. Peter pouts, kissing and nipping at Tony’s stubbled jaw.

“Tony, come on.” He insists and Anthony chuckles at the nickname. Peter had urged him to use the name Tony instead, because Anthony apparently shows his age. Anthony is perfectly fine with his name, thank you very much, but he wouldn’t deny Peter anything.

“No. It’s Hell, princess. You could get hurt.” Anthony repeats as the younger snuggles into his black t-shirt.

“Maybe one day?” Peter pleads.

“Maybe.”

_Gettin’ heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells._

Peter is a vision with his hips canted upwards and face pressed against the pillow, hot tears wetting the fabric underneath.

“Daddy, _please_!” He cries, black-painted nails desperately clutching the sheets. The plea has Anthony speeding up his thrusts, clutching the boy’s ass so hard that the skin is already bruising. Anthony doesn’t totally understand why some words bring mortals pleasure, but as long as Peter is happy, Anthony is happy.

“So full,” Peter whines, completely blissed out. Tony growls as he nails the younger’s prostate repeatedly.

“So perfect for me. My princess.” Tony grunts as Peter comes all over the black sheets.

“Yours! Yours forever!”

_Father did you miss me,_

_Don’t ask me where I’ve been._

_You know I know, yes, I’ve been told I redefine a sin._

“You like it?”

Anthony watches as Peter turns in front of the mirror, smoothing his red plaid pleated skirt over his ass.

“Love it, angel.”

Peter giggles at the irony of the nickname, turning to face Anthony. He looks gorgeous, the high neck black tank top he has on not covering all the bruises down his neck. The boy twirls, skirt flapping as Anthony ogles his long legs.

“How do you feel about the shoes? I wanted to wear heels but I knew I’d be complaining 30 minutes in,” Peter asks, looking at his black Converse in the mirror.

“I think they look fine.” Anthony drawls still fixated on his baby’s ass instead of his shoes. Peter insisted that they go to see one of his favorite bands in concert before Anthony took him down _there_ to tour the manor.

“Good!” Peter squeals, grabbing his black purse and skipping over to Anthony. He presses a chaste kiss to the older man’s lips, no doubt leaving red residue from his lipstick. “Time to go, Tony.”

The devil grins.

_I don’t know what’s driving me to put this in my head._

_Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead!_

_And he said_

“I knew you weren’t ready, baby.”

Peter clutches Anthony’s black dress shirt as quiet sobs rack his body, tears wetting the fine fabric. They had a little problem with the screams of the damned on the way down, the tortured soul’s wails too much for the mortal’s ears.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry.” Peter cries as Anthony rocks him back and forth. One of his servants stands quietly in the corner of the foyer because that’s as far as they could get before Peter burst into tears.

“It’s not your fault. You just need time to adjust.” Anthony coos, glaring at the brown-haired servant who makes a confused face. He gulps and shifts his wings. Peter continues to cry, some tears splashing onto the black marble below them.

“_Hurts_,” He rasps, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

They’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

_For the lives that I fake, I’m going to hell!_

_For the vows that I break, I’m going to hell!_

“Where the hell were you, Pete?”

Peter grinds his heel on his cigarette butt that’s on the concrete ground. He rolls his black lined eyes and looks at Harry. His heart clenches at the thought of Tony and his visit to his manor.

“I was with my boyfriend, thank you very much.” He snaps, taking a swig of his iced coffee (_always with extra cream_). Harry makes a sour face.

“And that was a reason to skip my birthday party? Dude, you said you’d come like, 2 months ago.”

Peter rolls his eyes again. Harry’s parties are always ridiculous, full of expensive alcohol and a guest list over a mile long.

“Duh?”

Harry flips him off.

_Gettin’ heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells._

“I want to stay here forever.”

Anthony chuckles and nips teasingly at Peter’s neck. The couple smell like sweat and sex, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. Peter feels tiny against the older man, dark red comforter covering most of his lithe body.

“Anything you want, princess.” Anthony mutters, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s exposed shoulder. The younger sighs happily, rubbing his clean shaven leg against Anthony’s.

“Anything?” Peter asks, voice sweet as sugar. Anthony hums, lightly dragging his fingers down Peter’s freckled arms.

“Anything.”

Peter is silent for a second as he thinks.

“Marry me.”

Now, Anthony understands marriage for mortals. He understands the excitement and benefits. But it doesn’t make a difference in his own life. Or, non-life, technically.

“Yeah?”

Peter giggles and squeezes Anthony’s wrist.

“Yeah. I want to be your queen.” Peter whispers and that sends a chill through Anthony’s body.

“Then so be it.”

_For the ways that I hurt, when I’m hiking up my skirt._

_I am sitting on a throne while they’re buried in the dirt._

“Please, sire, spare me.”

Anthony fights back the urge to roll his eyes. The servant kneels on the ground, shaking as he pleads for his sanity.

“God, you’re so annoying,” Peter whines from where he’s perched on Anthony’s lap. Anthony chuckles and runs his thumb over the lace edge of Peter’s panties, hand shoved under his skirt.

“Yeah, I agree.” Anthony jokes, watching Peter pick at his nails. The servant sobs, wings splayed out against the marble floor.

“Sire, don’t banish me. I promise it won’t happen again.” He cries. Peter laughs as Anthony nips at his neck.

“I really don’t care. Take him away.”

The servant wails as he’s dragged away. Peter hums happily and kisses Anthony’s cheek, trailing his thin fingers over the smooth bone of the devil’s horns.

“So perfect. You’ll be such a good queen,” Anthony coos, squeezing the younger’s thigh gently.

Peter beams.

_Gettin’ married to the devil, you can hear the wedding bells._


	16. starker; rich!tony x stripper!peter

starker; rich!tony x stripper!peter

Tony hates clubs.

They’re always grimy and dirty and never cleaned well enough. The reek of cheap alcohol always disgusts him, since he’s come accustomed to more expensive brands of liquor and wine.

So why is he in one?

The answer is simple. It’s always been, for this past year.

Peter Parker.

Tony strokes his goatee as he watches the boy twirl around the sleek metal pole. His milky skin glitters under the purple lighting, most likely some form of cosmetic glitter brushed over his body. His smile dazzles like his skin, bright and sparkling. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink from dancing, pairing with the chestnut curls that are somehow getting curlier, the hairspray not helping much.

The crowd hoots and hollers as Peter lifts his white lacy babydoll just so, flashing a sliver of his skin. He beams as more bills flutter onto the stage. Peter does a few more spins around the pole, lacy white panties cupping his ass deliciously. Tony’s eyes wander down Peter’s long legs to where platform holo (_the boy taught Tony the word a few weeks ago, when they were shopping for new dancing shoes_) heels click on the stage.

Much to the crowd’s disappointment, the song ends (_Cherry Pie by Warrant, one of Peter’s favorites_) and he hops off stage. The older man grins to himself, knowing his baby boy will make rounds and eventually make his way to Tony’s table. He watches Peter with hungry eyes as he leans over the tables, flirting with men and women alike. They all must be uninterested, because Peter slinks over to Tony’s table.

“Hi, _Anthony_.”

Tony smirks and leans on the black table.

“What did I say about calling me that, baby boy?” He purrs and Peter looks around innocently.

“I do it to annoy you. I think you’d figure it out by now,” The brunette teases, manicured fingers brushing Tony’s sleeve. The older man would love to grip that halo of curls and pull Peter in for a filthy kiss, but that would turn off most of his loyal customers.

“Do you want a dance or not? I want to squeeze in one more customer before my shift ends.” Peter drawls.

“I’m good, angel.” Tony coos. Peter nods and looks around at the other tables.

“One of my regulars is over there. I’ll meet you in the car?”

“Sounds good,” Tony responds, and Peter saunters his way over to a nearby table. A blonde, muscular man brightens at the sight of Peter, rubbing his hands together excitedly. He flirts a little, leaving lingering touches to his bicep. The man says something, then Peter grabs his hand and pulls him down a nearby hallway.

Tony doesn’t feel like watching the two girls who are currently dancing, but he does throw a few bills on stage to be nice.

The air outside is cool, crisp in his lungs as he breathes in deeply. The street is dark, not menacing, but almost asleep. He slowly finds his way to his Audi, standing next to it rather than getting inside. He waits, although he doesn’t mind.

“Daddy.”

Tony looks up from his phone to see his angel walking towards him. He’s in Nike sweatpants and slides, a black Burberry coat that was a gift from Tony wrapped around him. Honestly, Tony could fuck him in his dance outfit or like this.

“Hey, pumpkin.” Tony coos, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the young boy’s lips. Peter hums happily, kissing back slowly.

“You must be tired,” Tony says, opening the passenger door and guiding Peter in. He yawns in response and Tony chuckles.

During the drive to their apartment, Tony catches glimpses of a sleeping Peter, lights from the highway painting his face different colors.

Tony can never lose him.


	17. starker- 11:11

starker- 11:11

this is the backstory to my high-school au 

no major warnings beside background sambucky

♡♡♡

“What’s going on with you and Sam?”

Bucky makes a show out of avoiding Tony’s eyes, staring at his beat-up Converse

“We’re taking a break,” He mutters, swallowing thickly.

“Shit, why?” Tony asks, the filter on his mouth non-existent. Bucky shoots a glare at the other boy.

“Tony,” He warns, digging through his Under Armour backpack for something. Tony has never been good at thinking before he speaks.

“Where the fuck is Coach Wilson?” Bucky grunts as he takes a sip from his Gatorade water bottle.

“Probably jacking off. I swear he’s never around.” Tony jokes, rolling out his wrists. Steve gags from where he’s stretching on the ground. A few other teammates are doing a warmup laps at the other end of the field, while the rest stand around and chat. Bucky watches Sam as he does his stretches a decent distance away. He looks sad and Tony can bet he’ll be fucking up good amount today.

“On your left, Tony,” Steve mumbles, and as if on cue, all the players look to the left.

The cheerleaders.

The only good thing about practice is that the cheerleading squad practices on the turf with them. All the guys love it and admit it loud and clear.

“Hi, boys.”

Peter Parker.

Peter is one of the most loved boys in their school. Being the only guy on the varsity cheerleading squad, he has an entire group of girls devoted to his well being. He’s on the Decathlon team, Vice President of his class council, and on track to become Valedictorian.

Tony hates him.

(Not really. He’s smitten with the boy, but he’ll never admit it.)

“Hey, darlin’.” Bucky purrs, causing a beautiful pink blush to creep onto the younger’s cheeks. He looks delicious, in short, blue track shorts and an oversized Midtown Tech sweatshirt. His long legs are on display, a perfect balance of muscle and skin.

“Bucky! How are you?” Peter asks, adjusting the strap of his hot pink Nike duffel bag that’s on his shoulder.

“Better now that you’re here,” The older boy flirts, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Peter _giggles_ for God’s sake and bites his strawberry pink lip.

Why does Bucky have to be so good at sweet-talking?

“Peter! Come on!” One of the girls on the squad shouts, beckoning the boy. Tony recognizes her as Pepper Potts, a senior with red hair as fiery as her attitude. He’s positive that she and Peter are dating because they’re always touching in some way.

“Bye! See you later!” The brunette squeaks, waving as he runs off to his team. Tony can’t help but stare at his ass as he jogs.

“Cute, huh? Seems like your type.” Bucky smirks, nudging Tony’s shoulder.

“No. Not at all.”

♡♡♡

“Hey Tony? Can I borrow a pen?”

Tony looks up from his worksheet, face to face with a certain cheerleader.

Peter leans over his desk, chewing on the end of his _pen_, cherry lips coated in gloss. His honey eyes are wide in question, long lashes coated in mascara.

“Mine ran out of ink.” He says coolly, head tilting just so. Tony realizes his mouth has been open slightly and he quickly closes it.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” He stammers, rummaging through his navy pencil case. Of course he can’t find one pen, so he dumps some of the contents on his desk. Peter bites his lip to hold back a giggle.

“Here, Peter.” Tony says triumphantly, handing him a blue Bic pen. Peter smiles tightly and takes it.

“Thanks, Tony.”

He has trouble focusing on Business Management after that.

♡♡♡

“Tony? Earth to Tony.”

Tony flinches as Sam snaps his fingers in his face.

“What?” He asks, tearing his eyes away from the cheerleaders who sit a few tables away.

“Jeez, Tony. I asked if you were going to Thor’s party on Saturday. What has gotten into you?” Sam scolds, looking at him weird. Tony can’t help but glance back at the table, catching a glimpse of Peter laughing at something.

“_Oh_,” Sam gasps, “You’ve got your eyes on someone, Stark?”

Steve nudges him gently.

“Yeah, something like that.” Tony snaps, glaring at Steve. Sam lets out a hoot.

“No way. Is it Natasha? I’m willing to bet it’s Natasha.” He theorizes, taking a bite of his ham sandwich. Tony makes a face.

“_No_. Leave me alone.”

Sam raises his hands in mock defense.

“Calm down, Tones. You can tell us.” Bucky pipes up from the other side of Tony. He’s still won’t talk to Sam, and there’s a heavy tension between the two.

“Nope.” Tony teases, popping the p. Sam rolls his eyes and Steve groans. As the group drawls on about Thor’s party, Tony’s eyes wander to Peter. He laughing and smiling with his girlfriends, clearly excited about something. Tony’s heart stops when the younger boy catches his gaze. Instead of looking away, he bites his lip and waves.

Tony waves back.

♡♡♡

He’d rather be anywhere but here.

_Here_ being on Thor’s beat-up couch, ears bleeding from the shitty rap music that’s blasting from the stereo.

“This sucks.”

Tony turns to look at Thor’s brother, Loki. He’s curled up in the corner of the couch, a scowl on his pale face.

All he does is complain.

“Yeah,” Tony replies, taking a sip of his shitty beer out of his Solo cup. He gags because he’s got drinks that are 100 times better at home. He hasn’t even had enough to give him a buzz.

“Parties suck. My brother sucks.”

Tony stifles back a laugh because he knows how much Thor adores his younger brother.

“Yeah. He sucks.” He jokes, checking the time on his phone.

_11:01_

Tony decides he needs a breather. He gets off the red couch, maneuvering his way through the crowd of people. He exhales a sigh of relief when he steps out the sliding glass door, the smell of cheap booze and Axe washed away by the fresh air. He chucks the rest of his beer over the railing of the porch, balancing the cup on top of it. The fresh air is nice, a slight breeze moving his hair.

“Hey.”

Tony jumps a little as Peter Parker leans on the ledge next to him.

“Hey yourself,” He responds, watching Peter chuck his drink into the grass.

“Don’t drink?” Tony asks, already knowing the answer.

“No way,” Peter cringes, making a face. “Alcohol is fucking disgusting. And dangerous.”

Tony is taken aback by the foul language coming from the tiny thing.

“My friend made it. She probably put about 5 different drinks in one cup. I threw up a little when I smelt it.” The brunette complains, dead serious. Tony can’t help but laugh at the younger boy’s disgusted face.

“Hey,” Peter scolds with a pout. Tony just shakes his head as he checks the time.

_11:11_

“11:11. Should we make a wish?” He jokes, not that serious. Peter giggles softly, looking up at the vast expanse of stars.

“Sure. You start.” The boy offers, looking up at Tony. The older boy practically melts as he studies Peter’s gaze, full of innocence and expectancy. Tony doesn’t know why he says what he does. It may be the booze or the nerves.

“I wish you weren’t dating Pepper.”

There’s silence.

Tony’s heart pounds in his chest, the sound drowning out the chirps of cicadas around him.

Then, the unexpected happens.

Peter _laughs_.

He doesn’t just giggle, no. He’s full-on hysterically laughing, clutching at his stomach. This causes Tony to laugh at how ridiculous the boy is acting.

“Oh my god, Tony,” Peter wheezes through his tears, lips stretched wide. “I’m gay!”

Tony rubs his face with his hands.

“Jesus, Peter, I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot.” He laughs, flushing in embarrassment.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Peter reassures, placing a tiny hand on Tony’s exposed bicep. “She’s single. All yours.”

Tony almost throws up.

“Peter,” He says softly, “I don’t like Pepper.”

Peter inhales sharply.

“Oh.”

“_Oh_.”

He blinks. Once. Twice.

“Me?” He asks softly, “Why me? You’ve never even noticed me.”

_Oh my god._

“Peter, what the hell? I’ve been drooling over you since middle school.” Tony confesses, laughing slightly. Peter rubs his temples.

“No way. The only reason I joined the cheer squad was to get you to notice me. That’s it. I am so-“

“Peter, shut up and kiss me.”


	18. starker abo: officer!tony x helpless!peter

## starker abo: officer!tony x helpless!peter

warnings: start to smut and mention of a brothel

_“Officer Wilson, taking a 10-8.”_

Tony munches on his ham sandwich, glancing at the car’s clock.

_10:56_

Only four minutes until his shift ends. Tony sighs, snapping his green Tupperware closed. He can barely keep his eyes open, the soft lull of the cop car almost coaxing him to sleep.

_10:58_

The street light casts an unnatural glow through the windows of his car. This is probably the worse spot to eat his late _late_ dinner, on a deserted street in a part of Queens. The street is dark aside from the weak glow of the lamps, a sea of rich black between the old apartments and buildings. It’s empty, all hustle and bustle gone during the dead of night.

_Wait._

Tony squints, making out a figure standing next to the lamp post.

It looks like a young man, propped up next to the chipping green pole as he pulls his coat tighter around his shoulders. The coat is huge, coming down to his mid-thigh. The alpha climbs out of his car, hand resting on his gun in caution.

“Hey kid!” He shouts, causing the young man to jump. A slight breeze blows down the street, causing Tony to get a whiff of terrified omega. The boy starts to turn away, but Tony stops him.

“I just want to help.” He tells the omega, stepping to the front of his car. The brunette freezes, blinking a few times as he analyzes the situation. Tony tries to smile his most comforting smile.

“Am I in trouble?” The boy finally squeaks, stepping closer to the artificial light of the lamp.

“No, not at all.”

The alpha in Tony just wants to pick the poor thing up, help him build a nest, and rub all over him. But he knows he can’t do that.

Not right now.

“C’mere, I’m going to help you.” Tony coos, causing the omega to shuffle closer to the cop car. Under the dim lighting of the street lamps, Tony can see a large Band Aid plastered over the boy’s mating gland.

It clicks in Tony’s head.

The way too big clothes, the fearfulness of the alpha, the tear streaked cheeks, and the covered mating gland.

He must be a part of an omega brothel.

“I’ll drive you home,” Tony offers. The alpha would never bring the boy back to where he came from, he just wants to make sure his assumption is correct.

“No, I-I can’t go back.” The omega cries and Tony nods.

“It’s okay. I won’t bring you back,” He says calmly. What can he do, though? He’ll be breaking so many rules if he takes the omega in.

Whatever.

“I can take you to mine.”

The boy’s eyes widen, and Tony has to clench his fists at his sides to stop him from scooping up the little thing.

“O-Okay,” The brunette stutters, stumbling over the curb to Tony. The alpha opens the back door, gesturing for the boy to climb inside. He clambers onto the seat nervously.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Tony asks as he gets into the car, the pet name slipping out easily.

“Peter. Peter P-Parker, sir.” The boy stammers as Tony starts the car. The alpha smiles as he starts the drive to his own apartment.

About halfway through the trip, he notices that Peter fell asleep in the back seat. His lips are parted slightly, moonlight washing over his freckled skin. Tony’s heart clenches as he glances at the omega. He wants him, but that’s _really_ immoral. He needs to handle the situation professionally.

But he doesn’t want to.

When they reach Tony’s apartment, Peter is still sleeping. The alpha opens the passenger door and nudges the young boy.

“Hey, Peter, wake up.” Tony says gently. Peter stirs, letting out a little _“hmph” _before closing his eyes again.

Well then.

Tony unbuckles Peter’s seatbelt, then scoops the omega up into his arms. Peter hums happily, snuggling into Tony’s chest. The older man locks the car, carrying Peter up to the townhouse. When they get inside, Tony places Peter down onto his cheap couch gently. He immediately snuggles into the single throw pillow, pulling his legs close to his chest.

“Hey, do you want to take a shower?” Tony offers. Peter opens his eyes and nods.

“Okay,” Tony breathes, “Stay there.” The alpha heads into his own bedroom, taking an old Black Sabbath shirt and boxers out of his dresser for Peter. He starts the pink tiled shower, making sure there’s shampoo and conditioner for the boy. He places his clothes down on the toilet seat. He makes his way back to the living room.

“The shower’s ready.” He huffs, and Peter climbs off the couch.

Tony decides to whip up some Kraft mac and cheese while Peter is in the shower.

It takes a lot of willpower not to imagine what the boy looks like naked.

“Lieutenant Stark?”

Tony turns around from where he’s stirring the bright yellow cheese and noodles.

Peter stands in the entryway to the kitchen, curls wet against his forehead. Tony can’t help the low rumble that starts in his chest as he drags his eyes over Peter’s body. His shirt comes down to his thighs, engulfing his small frame.

The omega flushes at the sound, emitting a sweet scent through the room.

“I made some mac. Have a seat.”

⭐️💙⭐️

Tony didn’t want to leave Peter home alone.

He has quite a few locks on his front door, but alphas can get crazy when they smell an omega. Peter had assured him he would be fine, yet Tony still worried about him all day.

But, when he came back home at his usual time, the door is still in tact.

What surprises him the most is the inside.

His townhouse has never been this clean.

It’s almost as if the floors sparkle, as well as the appliance. The pillows on the couch are fluffed and arranged nicely, his DVD collection sorted alphabetically, his books sorted by author. There’s fresh flowers on the kitchen table and the coffee table, as well as a few new houseplants.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat when he enters his bedroom.

There are blankets upon blankets arranged specifically on his bed. Tony spots a few of his shirts mixed in with the linens and pillows, placed thoughtfully.

Peter is curled up in the nest, lips parted as he sleeps soundly.

Tony doesn’t know whether to cry or purr.

He eventually does the latter, a warm feeling filling his chest as he observes the little omega.

Peter lifts up his head at the sound, blinking the sleep away.

“Oh!” He squeaks when he sees Tony standing in the doorway, “Lieutenant Stark!”

He sits up quickly, stretching.

“I fell asleep. I can take it apart now.” Peter says, leaning over and starting to disassemble his nest.

“No, no. It’s okay. I can sleep on the couch.”

Tony would much rather curl up in Peter’s nest, but he should probably take it slow.

Probably.

⭐️💙⭐️

“Good morning, Lieutenant Stark!”

Tony groans, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. The smell of bacon fills his nostrils, as well as sweet sweetomega.

“Mornin, Peter.” He grumbles, opening his eyes. Peter is perched on the arm of the couch, Tony’s shirt falling of his shoulder.

“Food?” The alpha huffs mindlessly, tossing his plaid blanket off his body and onto the floor. Peter scrambles to pick it up, folding it quickly and putting it back on the couch.

“It’s ready in the kitchen.” Peter tells him, trailing behind the older man as he stomps his way into the kitchen. A huge stack of pancakes and bacon sits on the table, a tall glass of orange juice next to the food. “I ran to the bodega to grab some ingredients, you didn’t have much.”

Tony takes a forkful of eggs while Peter sits down next to him.

“Thanks, sugar.” He mumbles through a mouthful of food, Peter blushing a gorgeous crimson color. Tony could lean over and ravish his now bare neck, but he knows he needs to hold himself back.

“So, Peter, tell me a little about yourself.”

⭐️💙⭐️

The days go by blissfully.

Tony doesn’t know how he’s survived so long without an omega.

He comes home from work every night to find a home cooked meal waiting on the table with a note, rooms clean, and a curled up Peter on the couch. (The adorable thing felt bad for taking up Tony’s bed.)

During the day, he takes Peter out to explore. They find hidden parks near the townhouse, odd museums with cheap entry fees, and cute Ma and Pop diners to eat at.

It’s wonderful.

Tony just wishes Peter would hold his hand.

💙⭐️💙

“You’re drinking tea.”

Tony raises his eyebrows over his plain mug.

“You always need your coffee in the morning.” Steve says, leaning against his cheap desk. “And you never eat salad. Your beard is even trimmed. Where’s the Tony I know?”

The brunette in question chuckles.

“Just a change of habit, I guess.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you say.”

💙⭐️💙

Tony almost drops his groceries when he walks in the townhouse the next weekend.

It smells absolutely delicious, the sweet smell going straight to his head.

“Peter?” He manages to call out, placing the brown bags on the kitchen table. The house is silent, and Tony almost misses the small cry from his bedroom.

Almost.

He walks into his bedroom, dick aching at the display in front of him.

Peter is naked on the bed, ass in the air as he slides 3 fingers inside of himself.

“_Alpha_,” He cries, slick glistening from where it drips between his thighs.

Tony would be a good man and resist, but the alpha in him screams _omega in heat _and _hole to fuck._

With a growl, Tony undos his slacks and pushes into his omega with a bite to the little thing’s neck.


	19. starker; alpha prince!tony x bought omega!peter

## starker; alpha prince!tony x bought omega!peter

a/n: all I write is abo because I’m big dumb™️

“Wonderful shot, Anthony.”

Tony lowers his bow, eyeing the arrow that sticks out of the target. It’s skewed a little to the left, not quite dead center.

“Decent, I suppose.” He remarks, drawing another arrow from the quiver strapped to his back. His father chuckles, watching as Tony draws his bow. The young prince purses his lips as he releases the string with a _thwack_. The second arrow sticks right next to the first.

“You’re too hard on yourself.” Howard says, squeezing Tony’s shoulder gently. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

Tony stifles back a groan. Walks with Howard usually end up with some sort of lecture, or reprimanding.

“Sure,” He replies, a bit annoyed, placing his bow and quiver on the wooden stand next to him. Howard nods and guides Tony away from the range, walking down the gravel path to the royal gardens.

Tony’s never been too fond of the gardens, as gardening has never been a hobby he’s taken up. It’s too dainty, too _Omegan_, for an alpha like him. _(He’s kind of cocky, okay?) _Not even his mother enjoys garden, preferring to stay inside and cook or socialize.

“You’re mother and I have been talking,” Howard starts, and Tony can’t help but interrupt.

“That’s a first.”

Howard glares at his son, clenching his jaw to bite back a retort.

“Attitude, Anthony. Your mother and I have agreed that it’s time you have an omega of your own.”

_Holy shit._

Tony almost regrets being an ass.

Almost.

“Wait, are you serious?” He sputters, turning to face his father. He smiles tightly.

“Yes. There’s a pretty young thing arriving today from Saint Monica’s.” Howard says, almost nonchalantly. “I want to talk to you about some things fir-“

“Oh my god! When?” Tony shouts, completely ignoring his father’s words. He’s sweaty from arching in the heat, as well as a quick jog beforehand. Any omega would still fawn over him, but he wants to make a good impression.

“In about an hour, but-“

“I’ve got to go, dad!” Tony exclaims as he runs down the path, heading to his own private quarters.

He runs a bath immediately, stripping quickly so he can wash up. The hot water feels great on the alpha’s sore muscles. He could stay there forever, steam clouding his vision, but he has places to be.

Tony picks out one of his nicest tunics, a dark red one with gold embroidery. It fits him like a glove, the metal Stark Coat of Arms glinting under the natural light of his room. He dresses in black trousers and his newly shined black boots. As he adjusts the smaller, more casual gold crown on his head, there’s a knock on his door.

“Come in!” He shouts, rubbing his thumb over one of the rubies on his crown. His mother enters the room, in a gold summer dress.

“Mother,” Tony breathes, smiling softly at her, tearing his gaze away from his reflection.

“Your omega will be here any minute, Anthony. Let’s head to the front gates.”

Tony holds out his arm for his mother, leading her to the front steps of the castle. Howard is already there, watching a pristine white carriage come up the road. Tony takes a deep breath as the horses come to a stop in front of the steps.

“It’s okay, darling.” Maria assures him, squeezing his gloved hand. “I’ll go greet him. You stay here.”

Tony holds his breath as his mother climbs down the steps, opening the door to the carriage. A figure emerges from inside, and-

He’s a literal angel.

“Queen Maria!” The omega yelps, hugging his mother tight instead of bowing or shaking her hand. Tony’s mouth is parted slightly as he watches the two interact. The boy is dressed in white silk robes, matching the purity of his skin.

Tony swallows thickly as his mother and his omega walk up the steps.

The boy is even more beautiful up close, whiskey eyes wide as he looks at Tony, pink lips a perfect Cupid’s bow.

“Alpha?” He asks, tilting his head to the side, chestnut curls falling over his face.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He manages to choke out.

“Alpha!” The omega exclaims happily, wrapping his arms around Tony and squeezing _tight_. He smells delicious, like flowers and honey.

“You’re so handsome! And you smell so good!” He squeals, rubbing his face against Tony’s clothed chest. The older boy can’t help but purr, loud and comforting as he strokes the omega’s soft curls.

“God, are you even real?” Tony mutters, because he can’t believe the gorgeous thing in front of him.

“Yes! All real!” The omega jokes, giggling.

Tony is going to do anything he can to hear more of those giggles.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” He asks, glancing to where his parents speak with the driver of the carriage.

“Peter!” The boy tells him, biting his lip and gazing up at Tony. His eyes are already full of love and adoration.

“_Peter_,” Tony purrs, leaning down to nuzzle into the omega’s neck. Peter giggles happily, cocking his head so he can bare more of his neck.

“_Alpha_,” Peter whines as Tony nips at his soft skin teasingly.

“All yours baby,” He promises, gently running his hands up and down Peter’s arms. He’s so soft, like a kitten, and Tony just wants to sit and pet and cuddle him.

“How about I show you my bedroom?”


	20. welcome to albuquerque: rancher!tony x ranch hand!peter

welcome to albuquerque

rancher!tony x ranch hand!peter

warnings: there’s a bj scene, daddy kink (sorry!), tony and steve are divorced, tony calls peggy a bitch

words: 3.8k

Peter practically sulks the entire way to Mr. Stark’s house.

He can’t believe his aunt is making him be a ranch hand, without pay, for the entire time he’s there.

There isn’t much to do where his aunt lives anyway, so maybe it’ll keep him entertained.

But Peter can’t help and think the opposite as he leaves his bike resting against the worn, uneven fence enclosing Mr. Stark’s property. Peter slowly walks up the dirt path to the modest sized house on the property. A wooden sign next to the steps reads “Iron Man Ranch”, and Peter snorts at the name. He warily knocks a few times on the crooked door, and it swings open.

If this is Mr. Stark, Peter’s screwed.

The man is fucking handsome, with salt and pepper hair and a goatee that matches. (What Peter would give to feel that on his thighs.) Peter’s mouth goes dry at the sight of the man’s chest, blue and white flannel unbuttoned enough to let him get a glimpse of Mr. Stark’s chest hair and cross necklace.

“What do you want?” He grunts, leaning on the frame of the door, crossing his built arms across his chest.

“Hi! I’m Peter, Peter Parker.” Peter squeaks, outstretching his hand so Mr. Stark can shake it.

He doesn’t.

“Um, okay,” Peter hums, dropping his hand. “My Aunt said you were looking for a ranch hand?”

Mr. Stark is quiet as he thinks for a moment. He cocks his head, eyes narrowing as he studies Peter silently.

“Come on in, kid.”

Mr. Stark turns and heads inside, Peter rushing after him. The house is nice, a homey vibe given off by the decor and furniture. There’s pictures of Albuquerque hanging on the dark red walls, as well as many high quality photos of horses.

“Your aunt is May Parker, right?” Mr. Stark asks, sitting down at the old kitchen table. Peter sits down as well, nervously placing his hands in his lap.

“Yup!” He responds a little too cheerily. Mr. Stark nods.

“Figured. Talks about you a lot.”

Peter feels blood rush to his cheeks and he curses at himself silently.

“Oh, really?” He breathes, tapping nervously on the painted table. Mr. Stark smirks, leaning back in his dining chair.

“Only good things. Don’t worry, kid.” The older man huffs, stroking his beard gently. “Do you ride?”

Peter’s mind goes to the wrong place, until he realizes the man is talking about horses.

“Oh, I’ve never ridden a _horse_ before.”

Mr. Stark exhales deeply, cocking an eyebrow.

“You realize it’s a farm hand position, right?” He quips, and Peter giggles softly. Mr. Stark is smiling now, wiping his hands on his blue jeans. “It’s no big deal. I can teach you.”

Peter’s mouth goes dry at the thought of Mr. Stark teaching him how to ride a horse.

“That would be super cool.” Peter replies.

“Tomorrow, 6 am.” Mr. Stark says with a smile, stretching out his hand.

They shake on it.

☀️🐴☀️

The midsummer air is dry on the bike down to Iron Man Ranch.

Peter thought summer was for sleeping in, notgetting up at 5 to tend to some cows. He’s lucky that Mr. Stark is <strike>very</strike> attractive, giving him some form of better entertainment throughout the day.

As the brunette slowly approaches the ranch, he spots Mr. Stark by the front of the fence, petting a pretty dappled horse. He spots Peter and waves him over.

“Mornin’, Pete.” He calls out as the younger jogs over. Peter’s heart skips a beat at the nickname.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” He chirps, coming to a slow walk as he shuts the gate to the fence surrounding the field. Mr. Stark just purses his lips, scratching his horse behind her ear.

She paws at the ground happily, the early morning sun glistening off her white and grey fur.

“This is Friday, my best girl.” Tony pats Friday’s flank affectionately. “You won’t be riding her, or Jarvis over there, but they need to graze.”

Peter looks over to where a chocolate colored horse is eating the grass farther away.

“She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark,” Peter hums, raising a gentle hand to scratch her neck. Mr. Stark smirks proudly, cowboy hat tipped slightly in front of his eyes.

“Let’s teach you to ride, kid.”

Peter follows Mr. Stark into the stables, nose scrunching at the smell of fresh manure.

“After we do this, you get to clean up the shit.” Mr. Stark quips as Peter steers clear of a muddy puddle.

He knows he’s not joking.

“That _is_ what I signed up for,” Peter replies, but his voice catches in his throat when the come to the last stable.

The horse inside is gorgeous, with sparkling brown eyes and a buckskin coat.

“Edith, my American Quarter. She’s a real sweetheart. Got her from a rescue in Las Cruces.” Mr. Stark says fondly, giving Edith an affectionate scratch on the cheek. Peter holds his hand out so she can sniff it, and she does, giving him a lick. Peter giggles, petting her neck.

“We’ll get her saddled up, and I’ll teach you, yeah?”

Peter nods and listens patiently as Mr. Stark shows him how to put all the equipment on Edith. It’s… a lot, and Peter knows it’s going to take him more than a couple tries to get everything right.

“Okay,” Mr. Stark huffs, guiding Edith to stand in front of the wooden block steps. “You’re going to step up on the mounting block, put your right foot in that stirrup, then swing your left leg around.”

Peter _somehow_ mounts the horse with ease, probably due to years of gymnastics.

“Good Job, Pete,” Mr. Stark praises, and _holy fucking shit_, his hand is on Peter’s thigh as he nudges the mounting block out of the way. The younger boy’s heart starts to speed up and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“You’re going to hold the reigns in two fists,” Mr. Stark instructs, and slides his hand over his thigh and dangerously close to his crotch. The older man grasps the reigns like he explained, and Peter nods, in a slight daze. Mr. Stark guides the reigns to Peter’s hands, and the younger grasps the leather in both his fists.

“Perfect, perfect.” Mr. Stark compliments, calloused hand resting on Peter’s thigh _again_. The younger boy has to will his growing erection away, blushing furiously.

“Now squeeze her sides to get her to walk. Pull the reigns left to go left, right to go right.”

Peter does as Mr. Stark says, and Edith starts walking slowly. A grin erupts on Peter’s face as he gently steers Edith away from the fence.

“Wonderful, sweetheart. You’re a natural.”

Peter’s Brain short-circuits at the nickname.

Soon, with Mr. Stark’s encouraging words, he’s able to trot around the enclosure.

☀️🐴☀️

Being a ranch hand gets better and better.

It’s a lot of work, tending to the cattle and chickens and sheep, but he ends up putting on a bit of muscle. He just rides Edith everywhere, so there’s less walking involved. He passes Mr. Stark every so often, waving bashfully as the older man nods curtly. He even invites Peter to stay for lemonade and cookies in the afternoon. Mr. Stark is so funny and sweet, and Peter tries not to think to hard about lingering touches the older man gives him.

“We’re going to go riding today, kid.” Mr. Stark tells him when he enters the stables early Friday morning. Peter blinks a few times, since Mr. Stark tends not to mix up their schedule too much.

“Oh, um, where?” Peter asks as he watches Mr. Stark secure the leather saddle onto Edith. Jarvis stands a few paces away, bare except for reigns. Peter had to keep a straight face the first time Mr. Stark explained that he rides his horses bareback. (He tried not to think about how he wants to ride _Mr. Stark_ bare back.)

“There’s a couple of trails in the forest back there. I’ve packed some snacks and lemonade.” He hums, scratching Edith’s neck once he’s done saddling her up. “Hop on and follow me.”

They do just that, Mr. Stark taking the lead as Peter follows out of the enclosure. There’s a cool breeze as they trot through the woods, birds chirping and leaves rustling. Mr. Stark yells out instructions or encouragement ever so often. The sound of running water grows louder as they travel on the path, and eventually it gives way to a clearing.

And a waterfall.

“I like to take the horses here to rest while we ride. I also like to take a dip myself.” Mr. Stark shouts over the water as he slips off Jarvis. Peter does the same, stretching his legs.

“I didn’t bring my suit!” He giggles as Mr. Stark ties both Edith and Jarvis to a tree.

“I don’t mind,” Mr Stark quips, winking at Peter. The younger boy’s face heats up as Mr. Stark takes off his cowboy hat, running his hand through his greying hair.

“You can swim in your boxers, but I don’t recommend riding back with wet underwear.” He laughs, unbuttoning his flannel print shirt. “Chafing’s a bitch.”

Peter tries not to watch Mr. Stark as he takes off his shirt, but it’s really fucking hard not to. He’s all working muscle, with a deep tan from working under the Albuquerque sun. Peter tears his eyes away when they drift down at the dark hair by his navel.

He busies himself with taking off his own burgundy t-shirt, shimmying out of his skinny blue jeans. Peter debates keeping his briefs on, but ultimately decides _fuck it_.

When he turns back around, naked, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from, moaning or some shit.

Mr. Stark is even more attractive naked, with muscular thighs that could crush Peter if he wanted to. Not to mention he’s fucking hung, even when soft. Peter has to tear his eyes away from the older man’s dick, blushing furiously.

Mr. Stark grins and wades into the water, far enough that the water is up to his chest.

“Come in, Pete!” He shouts, and Peter does, only because he doesn’t want to be exposed in the middle of the forest. The water is really fucking cold, but after riding in long sleeves and pants, it at least feels a little nice.

“Feel good on your muscles?” Mr. Stark asks, and Peter groans in response.

“My neck aches really bad.” Peter complains, water rushing down his chest as he sits up in the creek. Mr. Stark floats over to him, placing his cold hands on his shoulders. Peter’s breath catches in his throat and Mr. Stark needs the knot in his neck.

“I’ve been told I give good massages.” Mr. Stark hums, and a small moan escapes Peter’s lips. Not thinking straight, he looks back at Mr. Stark and rests his head on his wet chest. He’s handsome up close, with his deep smile lines and freckles from the sun. Peter’s lips part, and Mr. Stark leans closer, and-

They’re kissing.

His lips are warm and soft and _perfect_. The older man tastes like granola and lemonade, the lemonade he drinks like it’s whisky. Peter turns his body so he can cup Mr. Stark’s stubbled jaw in his small palm. Mr. Stark’s large, rough hands rest on the small of Peter’s back, lightly stroking the soft skin. Peter hums happily and leans into the kiss, gently grasping at the bottom of Mr. Stark’s wet hair.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter breathes when the pull away, catching their breath.

“It’s Tony, honey.” The older man mutters softly, wiping a bead of water away from the corner of Peter’s mouth.

“_Tony_,” The younger breathes, kissing him again.

☀️🐴☀️

“Steve, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Peter looks down at at the bead of moisture running down the side of his glass. The muffled voice speaks again, and Tony rubs the bridge of his nose.

“It’s not _fair_. You know that. I don’t give a fuck what Peggy wants, she’s not her fucking mother.”

There’s a shout from the phone and even though the caller isn’t even in the room, Peter feels awkward.

“Whatever. But I’ll tell you this, you’re not cutting my holiday visits short.” Tony huffs, hanging up the phone. He stays silent for a second, before banging his fist on the kitchen counter. Peter jumps, but gets up hastily so he can wrap his lean arms around Tony’s thick torso. The older man sighs deeply, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s mop of chestnut curls.

“You okay?” He asks, looking up at Tony’s upset face.

“Yeah,” He breathes, brushing a curl away from Peter’s face with a thick finger. “My ass of an ex-husband is cutting my daughter’s visit short for some vacation.”

Peter’s breath catches in his throat.

Ex-husband?

“You were married?” He asks, hand pressed against Tony’s chest. His head spins at the though of a wedding band around the older man’s finger.

“Yeah. He was cheating on me towards the end of our marriage.” Tony tells him, peppering kisses on the younger’s cheek. Peter giggles, running his finger along Tony’s jaw.

“Peggy?” Peter offers, cocking his head. Tony throws his head back and laughs.

“That’s the bitch.”

Peter pokes Tony in the side.

“But you have a daughter? Is she as cute as you?” Peter jokes, slipping his hands into the back pockets of Tony’s jeans.

“You’re hilarious. I’d say she’s cuter.” Tony quips, poking one of Peter’s dimples. “Morgan Stark-Rogers. My little girl.”

Peter feels warm as he listens to Tony talk about his daughter. It’s clear he really loves her, one of the few people who can wipe the usual scowl off his face.

Tony reaches for his phone, unlocking it and pulling up a picture of Morgan. She’s beaming at the camera, next to a dark brown lab that’s missing one leg.

“That’s her dog Bucky. He’s a bit of a moron.”

Peter rolls his eyes, nuzzling into Tony’s chest more.

“He’s cute. Hush.” He scolds. “Besides, I want to hear about Morgan.”

☀️🐴☀️

The days go by blissfully.

He spends more and more time at Tony’s, telling Aunt May that some of the cows have reoccurring health problems, but he really spends most of his time languidly making out with Tony. They never go too far, much to Peter’s disappointment. Tony always stops him if he starts getting too enthusiastic, directing his attention to the movie or show playing on the T.V.

It’s nice, though.

His aunt always makes him stay home on Saturdays, wanting family time, but instead of hanging out with her he’s usually grocery shopping.

He’s standing in front of the shelves of pasta trying to decide between linguini and fettuccine, when a familiar voice speaks up over the squeaking of wheels.

“Peter, baby!”

Tony stands behind his ugly green cart, smiling wide. He lightly grasps Peter’s bicep, pulling the younger in for a quick kiss.

“Hi, Tony.” He says bashfully, placing the box of linguini in his basket. Peter can’t help but graze his eyes over Tony’s body, because he’s in a tank top that shows off his tanned, scarred arms perfectly.

“Daddy! Daddy! I found them!”

A little girl bounds down the aisle, hot pink package in her tiny hands.

_Morgan._

“That’s awesome!” Tony replies, watching as Morgan tosses the iced animal crackers into the cart. Peter can’t help but smile at the two. Tony seems so happy when he’s around his daughter.

“Morgan, this is my ranch hand, Peter.”

Morgan clutches onto Tony’s jean-clad calf, peering at Peter with big brown eyes.

“Hi Morgan! Your daddy has told me so much about you.” Peter says happily, squatting down so he’s at eye level with the little girl. Tony tenses up at Peter’s voice, and _oh_, he had no idea that’s something he’s into.

“It’s time to go get our vegetables, Little Miss.” Tony hums, and Morgan groans, but skips down the aisle in her pink flip flops. Peter stands up, smiling, but Tony pulls him back by his jean pocket.

“You better be coming over tonight, sweetheart.” He growls into Peter’s ear, making the younger blush all over. Tony nips at his earlobe before walking after his daughter.

Peter stands at the end of the aisle, shocked, with a basket of linguini and Ragu.

☀️🐴☀️

“Tony, _Tony_, below the collar.”

The older man nods and latches his lips onto Peter’s collarbone, sucking at the silky smooth skin. Peter lets out a soft whimper, threading his finger’s through Tony’s greying locks.

“God, you’re so hot Pete, _fuck_. Should’ve done this earlier.” Tony groans, calloused hands sliding under Peter’s MIT t-shirt, squeezing his hips so tight there will be bruises tomorrow morning. Peter whines, desperately grinding his hips down onto Tony’s crotch.

“_Daddy_,” Peter moans quietly right in Tony’s ear, grinning when he hears the other man’s breath catch in his throat.

“Baby, I need to get my mouth on you _right now_.”He grunts, lifting Peter up off of his lap like he weighs nothing. The younger boy shakes his head, slightly sweaty curls bouncing around.

“Wanna suck you off, daddy,” He purrs, pressing lazy kisses to Tony’s sharp jawline. He bites his lip and throws his head back.

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

Peter obeys, situating himself between Tony’s legs. The silver fox looks like a fucking god, legs spread as he rubs his growing bulge through his jeans, gazing down at Peter with arousal-clouded eyes.

Peter giggles and rubs his hands up and down Tony’s thighs.

“You’ve ever sucked cock before, baby boy?” Tony asks, gently running his thumb over the corner of Peter’s mouth. He nods, eagerly grasping at the button of Tony’s Levi’s.

“Hm. _Naughty_.” Tony hums, squeezing Peter’s neck gently. “Do those college boys make you feel good?”

“No, not as good as you can, daddy.” Peter whimpers, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the front of Tony’s jeans. The older man hisses, hurriedly yanking down his zipper, and pushes his pants down to his thighs. There’s a noticeable bulge in the front of his navy blue American Eagle boxers.

Trendy.

Peter kneads his cock a few times before pulling it out of his boxers. His mouth waters as the older man’s cock stands at half mast, flushed a dark angry red, a thick vein on the underside of the it.

“Think it’ll fit, baby?” Tony chuckles, stroking the young boy’s cheek.

“Maybe with a little struggle.” Peter says with a wink, pressing a few kisses to the hot skin. The erection jumps, and Tony groans as Peter chases it with his tongue. He starts sucking softly on the slick head, massaging Tony’s heavy balls.

“Love your mouth, Pete.” He moans, gripping Peter’s curls in his hands. Peter eases a few inches more into his mouth, relaxing his throat to the best of his ability. Tony bucks his hips up involuntary, causing Peter’s eyes to sting with tears.

“You taste so good, daddy.” Peter moans, pumping his wrist up and down. Tony exhales deeply, gripping the side of the couch with a death grip.

“Get your mouth back on me, baby, daddy’s close.”

Peter smirks and strokes Tony’s cock slower.

“Losing your stamina, old man?” He teases, squeezing the base of Tony’s dick. His own cock throbs with need, but he wants to get his daddy off first.

“Fuck you, Pete. I can last until the morning, you’re just so fuckin’ hot.”

Pleased with his answer, Peter takes Tony’s cock as far as he can, breathing in the musky scent of his neatly trimmed pubic hair. He starts moving his head, loud, slick noises cutting through his arousal filled brain.

“Ah, _honey_,” Tony groans, and his hips buck up once, then twice, before he shoots his load down Peter’s throat. The younger boy swallows, pulling off of Tony’s cock with a loud pop.

“Get up here, baby, come fuck into my fist.”

Peter moans as he shimmies out of his jeans, then briefs, small pink cock smacking against his stomach. He scrambles onto Tony’s lap, humping his thighs as he spits into his hand.

“Come on, pretty boy, get yourself off.” Tony hums, making a tight circle with his hands. Peter whimpers and tries to slip his hard length into Tony’s fist, but misses on the first try. Tony helps him out, and Peter starts humping into his fist.

“Peter, come on, you can do it, come for daddy.”

Peter comes with a cry, gripping onto Tony’s broad shoulders.

“Tony, Tony,” He whines, his now soft cock pressing uncomfortably against the other’s hot skin.

“You did so good for me Peter, so good.”

Peter smiles, breathlessly.

☀️🐴☀️

“Peter! Peter! Peter! Look at the unicorn!”

Peter laughs as Morgan pulls on his hand, pointing her chubby finger at the giant pink unicorn stuffed animal.

“I see it, Morg.” Peter tells her, bright neon carnival lights bouncing off his skin. Tony’s hand rests on the small of his back, thumbing at the cloth of his sweatshirt. (Well, it’s actually _Tony’s_ old MIT sweatshirt, but he likes to think it’s his now.)

“Daddy, can I get it?” Morgan pleads, eyeing the clown water game.

“Morguna, honey, you already have a unicorn.” Tony says softly, gesturing to the smaller purple unicorn tucked under her arm.

“But-“

“_Morgan_.”

Morgan pouts and looks at Peter.

“How about we go on the Ferris Wheel?” Peter offers, trying to steer clear of meltdown. Morgan lights up, and Tony lets out a breath.

“That was close,” Tony mumbles as the maneuver their way through the Fourth of July crowd. He was surprised when Tony invited him to take Morgan to the festival, hell, even the girl wanted Peter to go too.

Morgan practically shoves the 6 tickets into the ride operator’s hand. The teenager rolls his eyes and swings open the gate, Morgan clambering in, then Tony, then Peter.

She’s practically vibrating with excitement, swinging her tiny little legs as Tony not-so-subtly slips his arm around Peter’s shoulder. The ride starts with a lurch, and Morgan squeals happily.

The field sparkles with the lights of the endless rides and games, the people all mushing together into one big blob. The air is cool at the top, stars twinkling in the inky sky.

Tony’s rubbing his thumb down Peter’s neck, and it takes a few moments for Peter to realize he’s staring at him.

Lovingly?

“Daddy, is Peter like Papa? You used to look at Papa like that.”

Peter freezes and Tony tenses up. The older man’s eyes glaze with moisture, and he swallows thickly.

“Yeah baby, Peter, well, I don’t want Peter to leave this time.” He croaks, smiling softly at the younger.

Peter leans over and holds him tight.

☀️🐴☀️

_You Are Now Leaving_

_Albuquerque_

_Come Back Soon!_


	21. starker: nerd alpha!tony x popular omega!peter

yeah so give me the nerdiest alpha tony, with his thick tortoiseshell glasses and mouth full of metal. even _he_ was surprised when he presented as an alpha, being the wuss he truly is, but it kind of made sense, with his not terribly scrawny build and alpha father. but he hasn’t really lived up to that tile, turning down sports to experiment instead.

oh, but there is one thing he would become a walking alpha stereotype for.

the school’s prettiest omega, peter parker.

peter parker is the most popular, gorgeous, amazing omega in the entire school. tony has had a crush on him since 9th grade when the omega switched schools. being the genius he is, he’s been in tony’s upper level classes ever since.

but tony knows he’ll never ever even get a chance to ask peter out, since fights occur everyday _over the omega._

so he almost throws up when peter asks him to be partners for their final physics project.

_“tony, would you mind working together? physics isn’t really my thing and I really need a good grade on this. you’re super smart and I know you could help me.” _he asked, and tony’s ears rang with the praise as he nodded dumbly.

but the alpha had to remind himself that peter just wanted help so he could get a good grade.

that was all it was.

until it wasn’t.

until it was abandoning the project to sit on the couch to watch old sci-fi flicks instead. until it was stopping for ice cream before heading home to work on the project.

until peter kissed him over the scattered mess of papers and binders.

word spread fast in their school, and soon people are actually _nice_ to tony.

but he doesn’t care about anyone else except peter.

peter, the perfect omega who cooks tony lunch everyday and walks him to every class, the omega who gives him soft kisses every chance he gets.

tony’s in love with peter and peter’s in love with tony.

it’s perfect.

and peter’s aunt and uncle love him too. they gush about tony over dinner, and tony has to gush about peter too. the omega feeds him slivers of steak with his fingers, like all omegas do, and tony could cry because they only do that to their _claimed_ alphas.

that’s why, later, tony ends up at peter’s place even though the omega isn’t there.

his aunt opens the door, confused, looking at tony with the wine bottle and whiskey in his arms.

tony asks if he can court peter.

they agree with tears in their eyes, telling tony that he’s the first person they’d want their son to be with. they talk for hours, do’s and dont’s, how the wedding will be after college, and tony’s so excited he just wants to run and whisk peter off his feet right now.

but he waits, waits until he can drive peter down to a nearby park for a picnic filled with flowers, waits so he can reveal the thin gold collar he saved up for.

when the time comes, peter says yes, sputtering through his happy tears. tony slips the collar on him and the omega keens under the attention.

the have sex for the first time that night.

peter rides him, and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. the tight wet heat of his omega is heavenly, and he doesn’t last that long before biting down hard on peter’s mating gland.

tony can’t concentrate the next day at school, too busy fussing over his new mate.

but who can blame him?


	22. rich!peter x bad boy!tony: sweet sixteen

rich!peter x bad boy!tony: sweet sixteen

  * Everyone knows about Peter Parker’s birthday parties.
  * The kid’s been having ridiculously extravagant ones since he was 10 when he moved in with his aunt and uncle.
  * Each year the entire student body crosses their fingers that they’ll get a handmade invitation in the mail, usually pink with glitter and frills.
  * How he gets everyone’s address, nobody knows.
  * Tony Stark has never gotten an invitation to any of Peter’s parties.
  * It wouldn’t usually be a big deal, since he doesn’t know the kid, but Steve and Bucky get invited every single time.
  * _“I’ve known him for like, forever!”_ Steve will say when Tony makes a sour face, eyeing the over the top invitation.
  * _“We’re a package deal.” _Bucky will tell Tony when he complains that Peter doesn’t even send Buck an invitation.
  * So Tony is _not_ expecting to get invited.
  * But that’s what happens.
  * Howard drops the envelope in front of him while he’s doing his Physics. There, on the pastel pink paper, is his name (Anthony instead of Tony) written in neat script. His heart jumps when he sees the return address.
  * _The Parker Family_, it reads, with the address, applied with a pre-made stamp.
  * Peter’s family is exactly the type of people to own pre-made stamps.
  * He opens it, and pink glitter falls off of the card stock and onto the table.
  * _“You’re Invited to Peter’s Sweet Sixteen!”_ It says, with the date and time and address.
  * Tony’s confused at first because Peter doesn’t know him. (And would honestly never notice him.)
  * But then he remembers that Peter’s in his Intro to Food Preparation class.
  * (He spends most of his time staring at the junior’s gorgeous face, but no one needs to know that.)
  * He decides he’s going to go.
  * Steve and Bucky congratulate him jokingly, but soon the school knows he’s been invited.
  * People even bribe him for the invitation.
  * He declines.
  * On the day of the party, he wears his <strike>cleanest</strike> skinny jeans, usual AC/DC shirt, and a worn leather jacket.
  * He even worked a few extra shifts at the restaurant to get enough money to buy Peter a nice necklace.
  * (The kid likes jewelry, okay?)
  * When he drives up to the house, he wishes he could say he wasn’t impressed.
  * The house is huge, landscaped, and expensive.
  * He has to park down the street because _so many people_ are here.
  * The gate to the backyard is open and there is a chalkboard sign pointing to the yard, so Tony heads into the throng of people by himself.
  * The party is insane, with a buffet, DJ, chocolate fountain, the whole 9 yards.
  * There’s even an entire separate table for presents, and Tony heads over to set his gift down but is promptly interrupted.
  * _“Anthony! I’m so glad you’re here!”_
  * Peter is all smiles as he gives Tony a quick hug, and _wow_, does he look amazing.
  * He’s got these tiny white shorts on with a baby pink polo, and Tony can see the glitter on his cheeks. A sash that says _“Sweet 16”_ crosses his tiny body, paired with a plastic tiara.
  * _“Yeah, I-“_ Tony’s mouth is dry. _“I’m glad I could make it.”_
  * Peter claps happily, beaming.
  * _“And you got me a present! Thank you so much!”_
  * Tony feels warm inside as he slips the gift onto the table.
  * Peter’s gone as soon as he came, so Tony ends up with Bucky and Steve, eating as much food as they can.
  * Eventually Tony has to take a piss, so May Parker kindly points him to the bathroom.
  * It’s taken, so being the idiot he is, Tony heads upstairs to find another one.
  * He makes his way towards what can only be Peter’s bathroom, but he’s stopped by soft sniffles and whimpers.
  * _“Quentin, this is the 3rd time!”_
  * There’s a silence before Peter speaks again.
  * _“I don’t think you do.”_
  * Another silence. Tony shouldn’t be eavesdropping.
  * _“It’s my sweet sixteen.”_
  * Tony glances through the crack the door makes, and the sight hurts his heart.
  * Peter is staring at his iPhone that’s cradled in his hands, mascara running down his face and streaking his foundation.
  * _“Peter?”_
  * The younger boy jumps, eyes wide and cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Before he can shoot off the bed, Tony walks into his bedroom and sits on the pink comforter of the bed.
  * _“Are you okay?”_
  * Peter nods weakly, despite more tears welling in his eyes.
  * _“You can tell the truth.”_
  * Peter bursts out crying, clutching on Tony’s arm as he hiccups through his tears.
  * Despite the situation, Tony’s heart is hammering in his chest because oh my god Peter Parker is hanging on me like a koala.
  * _“Quentin’s a shit boyfriend,”_ Tony says once the junior calms down a bit more. That makes Peter laugh, wiping away his semi-dry tears with the back of his hand.
  * _“No, he’s not. He just gets busy.”_
  * _“Doesn’t he get busy all the time?”_
  * Peter stays quiet.
  * _“How about you fix up your makeup, and enjoy the party without him? Your sweet sixteen needs to be as sweet as you, and all this crying is making it sour.”_
  * Peter flushes like a rose, and Tony gets a personal tutorial of how he does his makeup. He sticks to Tony’s side the entire rest of the party, and _fuck_, he’s so beautiful when he laughs.
  * Later that week, Tony gets a handwritten thank you note in the mail, along with specific instructions. (6:00 Saturday, Vacarro’s at the mall. Be there or be square!)
  * Tony’s sweating faucets when he gets to the pizza place Saturday night, nervous as all hell.
  * Peter excitedly waves him over to their booth, and, _holy shit_,
  * Kisses him.


	23. starker; fratboy!tony x lovesick!peter

uhhh so @starker-filth and I were chatting about Elton John and I couldn’t help myself….

starker; fratboy!tony x lovesick!peter

_Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band_

_Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man_

“Hey Rhodey?” Tony asks his best friend, crossing his arms and making the shitty beer in his solo cup slosh around.

“Yeah, Tones?” He responds, not taking his eye off a group of girls a distance away.

“You know that kid?” Tony asks, gesturing to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the small yard.

“What _kid_. You’re going to have to be more specific.” Rhodey grunts, raising his red solo cup to his lips.

“The one dancing. Tight jeans, nice ass.” Tony says, exasperated.

Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“I’m not actively searching for men, Tones. But yes, I see him. The one that’s like, a head shorter than everyone else?”

Tony grins at his best friend.

“That’s the one.”

“You definitely have a type.” Rhodey mutters.

“Hey. You trying to say something, James?” Tony snorts, cocking his brow.

Rhodey raises his hands defensively.

“Not at all. I don’t know him, and I know everybody. Must be from a different school.”

A dark skinned girl with brown hair in a braid taps the boy on his shoulder, and he turns around to give her a hug. His face lights up in excitement, chocolate brown eyes crinkling at the edges framed by long eyelashes. He has to stand on his tippy toes to hug the girl, pert ass sticking out ever so slightly, blue skinny jeans hugging his behind deliciously. The kid’s wearing _ballet flats _for God’s sake, a baggy MIT shirt on top.

“Fuck it. I’m asking him to dance.”

_Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand_

_And now she’s in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand_

“Hey.”

The boy turns around, pretty little face tilted upwards so he can see Tony. His doe eyes widen, a light pink dancing across his cheeks.

“H-Hi.”

Tony grins, adjusting his grip on his solo cup.

“Saw you dancing. You’re pretty good. Mind if I join?” Tony asks.

The boy opens his mouth repeatedly.

“Sure. I’d like that, yeah.”

Tony takes the boy by the hand, spinning him around unexpectedly, earning a little squeak, and then a giggle.

“Can I get a name, sweetheart?” Tony hums, snaking his arm around the boy’s waist, swaying slightly to the music.

“Peter. Peter Parker.” He responds, placing his own hand over Tony’s.

“Pretty name fit for a pretty boy. I’m Tony.” He says softly, lips brushing against the top of Peter’s ear.

“I know.” Peter breathes, earning a deep chuckle from Tony.

They dance for a while, Peter swaying his hips and rubbing the arms wrapped around his waist.

Tony doesn’t know if he wants Peter to feel his growing boner or not.

“Hey Pete, you wanna get out of this joint?” He asks huskily, running his hands along Peter’s hips.

Peter laughs.

“Yes please.”

_Jesus freaks out in the street_

_Handing tickets out for God_

“Yes Tony, harder, _please_,” Peter moans, knuckles white as he grips the IKEA bed sheets tighter.

Tony groans as he pounds into Peter’s ass, fingers pressing into the boy’s bare hips.

Peter’s moans grow louder as Tony nails his prostate, little _ah, ah, ahs _falling from his kiss-swollen lips.

“Fuck, Pete, I’m close.” Tony grunts, thrusts becoming shallower as he chases his release.

“Me too.” Peter manages to moan.

Tony reaches over to stroke Peter’s little cock, and within a few pumps he’s spilling all over Tony’s hand, his tight hole fluttering around Tony’s cock. This triggers his own orgasm Tony collapses over Peter’s back as he catches his breath. Once they’re both at a normal breathing rate, Tony pulls out and takes off the condom.

“Wow.” Peter breathes, sprawled out on the bed, soft curls sticking to his forehead.

Tony chuckles as he rustles through his drawers and grabs two pairs of his boxers, one for him and one for Peter. When he’s semi-clothed, he wordlessly slips the boxers over Peter’s lean legs.

“There.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to Peter’s sweaty forehead.

“‘M glad I came tonight. Not much of a party person.” He slurs as Tony flops down on the bed next to him.

“No parties, huh? What do you do then, write horoscopes? Smoke weed?”

_Turning back she just laughs_

_The boulevard is not that bad_

Peter giggles.

“I dance.”

_Piano man he makes his stand_

_In the auditorium_

“Really?” Tony asks, brushing a few damp curls off of the boy’s forehead.

“Yup.” He replies, popping the p.

“Makes sense. You’ve got the body for it.”

_Looking on she sings the songs_

_The words she knows, the tune she hums_

Peter closes his eyes and raises his hands above his head, pretending to dance.

“I love it. It’s my _thing_, you know?” He says quietly, keeping his eyes closed.

“I get it.” Tony responds, stroking his soft cheek with one finger.

“Why’d you come to this party, then?” Tony asks, peppering kisses down Peter’s smooth neck.

“My boyfriend broke up with me last week. I’ve been in bit of a funk.”

Tony stops his kisses.

Peter’s eyes fly open.

“Shit, Tony, that doesn’t mean anything!” He says frantically, sitting up in the bed.

“I don’t usually do this. Fuck, that doesn’t sound any better.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I thought we had like, a connection, yeah? That sounds stupid, I’m an idiot. I’ve never gotten this one night stand thing down.”

“Pete.”

Tony moves Peter’s hands away from his face.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-night stand.” He says softly, running his thumb over Peter’s knuckles.

“It doesn’t?” The boy asks, cocking his head to the side. He looks like a puppy, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“No.” Tony says.

He laughs, lying down on the bed. Peter follows suit, so close to Tony that their noses almost touch.

_But oh how it feels so real_

_Lying here with no one near_

_Only you and you can hear me_

_When I say softly, slowly_

“C’mere.” Tony huffs, wrapping his arms around Peter, coaxing the boy to rest his head on his broad shoulder. Peter melts into the touch, intertwining his long legs with Tony’s.

_Hold me closer tiny dancer_

_Count the headlights on the highway_

_Lay me down in sheets of linen_

_You had a busy day today_

“I’ll be seeing you again, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

_Hold me closer tiny dancer_

_Count the headlights on the highway_

_Lay me down in sheets of linen_

_You had a busy day today_


	24. starker: superior iron man x baby boy peter

(based on the scene from issue #6, but teen abomination is replaced with peter)

“We appreciate you coming here personally, Mister Stark. However, I don’t appreciate this distraction.”

Tony can hear Peter take his lollipop out of his mouth with a pop.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off my boy.” He says coolly, turning back to wink at Peter. He bites his lip and swings his feet happily. Tony can’t blame the businessmen in front of him, Peter looks delicious sitting in the large office chair. “If you want, I can have him sit with me. Maybe you’d actually look at me for once.”

Gerald swallows thickly and starts to protest.

“Pete, c’mere.” Tony interrupts, patting his thighs. The boy scrambles off the chair happily, tossing his bitten lollipop stick in the nearby trash can. The older man can’t help but groan softly as Peter slips onto his lap, pert ass pressing just rightagainst his growing hard on.

“Mister Stark, I believe this is inappropriate for a business meeting,” Gerald says impatiently as the other men and women look around uncomfortably.

“You hear that, baby?” Tony mumbles in Peter’s ear, completely ignoring the statement. He licks a stripe up Peter’s neck, earning a giggle that he could listen to on repeat.

“Daddy!” Peter whispers in mock anger, yet is obviously pleased.

“Mister Stark, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.” Gerald orders, losing his patience. Tony raises an eyebrow, displeased.

“I think you want to hear what I have to offer.” He drawls, squeezing the inside of Peter’s thigh gently. The brunette squirms, rocking his hips gently against Tony’s thighs.

“Stark, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Gerald repeats, more stern this time.

“I want your company,” Tony starts, lifting Peter off his lap so he can walk towards Gerald, “All of it. I’m willing to pay twice what it’s worth, too.”

Tony can hear Peter gasp softly and he wiggles his eyebrows at the younger boy. Gerald leans over the mahogany table, interested.

“Why? I never took you for a media guy. Certainly there’s a reason. Although I don’t think it’s a good one.”

Tony grins, menacing like a shark.

“I need the influence. Simple. You reach millions of people who are easily brainwashed, so why not use them for something bigger? Something better?”

Peter claps enthusiastically and Tony points at him.

_That’s my boy_, he mouths, undoing the button of his charcoal grey suit.

“That’s enough.” Gerald shouts, slamming his hands down on the tabletop, “Security!”

Suddenly, the double doors fly open and a crowd of security guards rush in, guns aimed at Tony. He rolls his eyes, flicking his hand upwards to summon his suit. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but some of the guards decided to point their guns at Peter.

His baby sits in the office chair, doe eyes blown wide with fear. He’s shaking slightly and has his knees pulled to his chest.

Tony can feel his armor materialize around him, the blue accents turning red in his cold fury.

“I think we have a bit of a problem here.”

(And then I ran out of steam.)


	25. abo starker: marigolds

The drive is brutal.

The place, Saint Vincent’s Home for Young Omegas, is a 3 hour drive from Tony’s penthouse in the city. Of course, with New York traffic, it bumps the drive up to 4 and a half hours, much to Tony’s _delight_.

But, he spent weeks researching the best place to purchase an omega, so he’s willing to make the drive.

Sort of.

It’s not terrible, he turns his music up loud and watches the trees and fields go by. Pepper ordered him a BLT, thank god for the red head, because by hour 2 he was absolutely ravished.

J.A.R.V.I.S leads him to a road tucked in the forest. A small, wooden sign reads _Saint Vincent’s Home for Young Omegas_ in script, with _217 Morgan Road _underneath. He drives up the road, the tall quaking aspens shading the asphalt.

He eventually drives up to the adequately sized house. It’s modeled after a log cabin, with a few touches of stone and plants here and there. It’s nice, peaceful, unlike the hustle and bustle of the city.

Tony climbs the smooth paved steps, noting the small sign next to the door that reads _“Please Ring the Doorbell!”_ in the same font as the first. He does just that, the chime audible through the door.

Tony watches as a long haired woman rushes past, shouting something before opening the door.

“Mister Stark. I’m glad you made it,” The brunette smiles, faint lines appearing around her mouth. Tony swallows, the bland scent of beta filling his mouth.

“You must be May.” He hums, following the woman into the foyer. It smells much better inside, sweet with omega pheromones that makes Tony growl. May chuckles, taking Tony’s coat off his shoulders and hanging it on the coat rack.

“I’m glad you’re finally deciding to choose an omega.” She says, a slight smirk on her face.

“Me too,” Tony responds. May turns, ushering him to another room.

“It’s recreation time right now. You see, we have schedules for the omegas, making sure they make the most of their days here.” She explains as they walk down the hall. Pictures upon pictures hang on the wall, portraits of different boys and girls. May turns into the main living room. It’s decorated nicely, but all Tony can focus on are the 4 omegas sprawled out on the two identical couches.

A petite dirty blonde raises his head, blue eyes blinking a few times as he sniffs the air.

Cute.

“Harley, this is Mister Stark. He’s looking for an omega.”

Harley smiles and cocks his head.

“Why else would he be here?” He teases, stretching his legs out on top of the raven haired omega next to him. May rolls her eyes.

“Attitude, Harley.” She scolds.

Besides the lazy display on the couches, the house is completely spotless. Nothing is out of place, and the decor is all placed with a purpose.

Before anyone can say anything else, the door to the porch swings open, the sweetest scent Tony’s ever smelt filling his nostrils.

“Aunt May! The marigolds bloomed! You just _have_ to-“

The boy pauses when their eyes meet.

“Hi!”

He smiles even wider, if that’s even possible, corners of his whiskey colored eyes crinkling. He’s clutching onto a handpicked bouquet of flowers, and there are even _more_ flowers in the pocket of his overalls, and Tony thinks he’s in love-

“You must be Mister Stark! You came just in time, I just finished picking you some flowers!” He chirps, chestnut curls bouncing as he shuffles over to Tony, extending his arms to present the bouquet. He gazes up at Tony adoringly, a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

“Oh, wow, thank you.” Tony breathes, taking the flowers. He grazes his fingers over the baby soft petals, bright red and orange. “They’re a tenth as beautiful as you.”

The boy flushes red like a rose, trying to hide his face in his hands.

“Oh, sir, you’re too kind.” He says softly, brushing a fluffy curl behind his ear. Omegas are built for praise and attention, for kind words swimming in their ears as they blush and hide their faces.

“I’m only telling the truth.” Tony purrs, and the boy _giggles_. Tony could listen to the delicious noise on repeat.

“My name is Peter!” He exclaims, holding out his hand while he bounces excitedly on his heels. Tony shakes Peter’s tiny hand, skin as smooth as a baby’s. He wonders if the rest of his skin is the same.

Tony brings Peter’s hand up to his lips, pressing a dry kiss to the soft skin.

Peter beams, taking his plump bottom lip in his teeth.

“Aunt May, can I show Mister Stark the marigolds?” Peter asks, turning to face the beta. “Pretty pretty pretty please?”

May chuckles, tilting her head a bit.

“Of course, Pete.”

Peter claps with glee, then tugs on Tony’s hand.

“Come on!” He squeals, pulling the alpha outside. Tony slows the pair down when they get to the bottom of the steps, opting for a slow stroll. Peter swings their arms gently, humming to himself.

“Tell me about yourself, Peter.” Tony says as they walk through the garden slowly.

“Well, my birthday was last week!” Peter chirps. “I’m finally17 now, I can go home with an alpha!”

Oh shit.

“I’ll take you home.” Tony blurts without thinking. But _fuck_, it’s so true. Peter gasps and bounces up and down.

“Oh, would you, Mister Stark? You’re such the perfect Alpha, so handsome, so strong, I’ll be so good for you!” Peter promises, eyes hopeful as he clasps his hands together.

Tony’s throat is dry.

“Yes,” He croaks, “You’ll be perfect.”

Peter beams.


	26. starker abo: homecoming

warnings: emotional and physical abuse (nothing explicit!), smut at the end, implied thorki, mentioned sambucky

words: 3.7k

“Jesus, he’s such a fuckin’ crybaby. I feel bad for Quentin.”

Everyone turns to look at the table across the cafeteria. Peter Parker, the world’s snootiest omega, is perched on top of the navy lunch table and bawling his eyes out. Loki, a lithe snarky omega, is patting under Peter’s eyes with tissues. His usual posse huddles around him, cooing at and petting him.

“I don’t. His performance in bed probably outweighs his attitude, if you catch my drift.” Sam snickers and Bucky punches him in the arm. The alpha lets out a whine and rubs at his shoulder. “Hey! What was that for?” He snaps at his boyfriend. Bucky just narrows his eyes. Tony finds himself looking at Peter again. He seems to have calmed down a little. His friends usher him out of the cafeteria, no doubt to help him fix his makeup. Tony could gag at how fucking prissy the omega is.

“You okay, Tony? You look a little pale.” Steve says, and Tony can’t believe he’s actually concerned.

“Jeez, Steve, I’m fine. Your motherly instincts take over?”

The table howls with laughter.

“Good one, Stark!” Thor booms and Steve rolls his eyes. Tony sends a wink at Steve, a group of girls heading towards their table emerging in the corner of his eye.

“Steven,” Peggy, the beta exchange student from England, pipes up. A few of her friends giggle behind her. “Would you come with me? I have to talk to you.”

Steve nods wordlessly, trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

“He’s smitten, I tell ya’.” Bucky slurs, tossing a crumpled napkin at Sam.

“Idiot. I’ve got to piss, see you in Calc.”

Sam groans and Rhodey shouts _“TMI!”_ Tony passes a table of girls on his way out, and they all call his name. He shoots them a wink, opening the double doors to the hallway. It’s actually quiet in the hallway, aside from his combat boots thunking on the linoleum floors. He fishes through his leather jacket’s pocket, looking for his cigs, when-

“Watch where you’re fucking going!”

Tony stumbles back as he knocks into, well, none other than Peter Parker. He looks like he’s going to cry again as Loki lifts him off of the floor. The tan-skinned beta flips him a bird as they walk away.

Great.

✨👑✨

He can’t _believe_ Quent would ever say that to him. For one, he’s not a slut. He’d never cheat on Quentin, he knows that, so why did he say it? Two, Quentin’s lucky no one was around to see Peter’s tears.

What he can’t get over is how Quentin touched him like _that_.

He’s heard of alphas hitting their omegas, but it’s always been an old wive’s tale, or whatever. He guesses that Quentin’s just stressed. He didn’t do so hot on his Pre-Calc test, so maybe he has some pent up anger.

Peter needs to send him some flowers.

By the time he gets back to his apartment, he’s already tried calling Quentin three times to apologize, but the alpha never picked up. He drops his Vera Bradley book bag on the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Peter! How was school?” Uncle Ben asks from where he’s seated at the kitchen island.

Peter breaks down into tears.

Uncle Ben takes him in his arms, holding him close. That’s the thing about his uncle, whenever he’s upset he just lets Peter cry it out, never asking for an explanation. Peter appreciates when his aunt gives him advice, he really does, but sometimes it’s nicer just to be held.

“I’ve got Halotop ice cream that’s calling your name.”

Peter giggles softly as Uncle Ben ruffles his hair.

Soon enough he’s cuddled under his silk sheets, a carton of peanut butter cup ice cream in his hands. In the midst of watching Cady and Janis mix together foot cream, his phone rings. “Quentin 💕💕” lights up on the screen over a very _flattering_ picture of his boyfriend.

“Hi,” Peter answers quietly.

_“Hi honey, I just-um-wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it.”_

“It’s okay Quent, I was a bitch too. I’m sorry.” Peter responds quietly, stabbing his ice cream with his spoon.

_“You kind of were. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?”_

“Bye, love you.”

_“Bye.”_

Peter hangs up the phone, feeling emptier than before.

✨👑✨

“Anthony, you are _not_ wearing that.”

Tony smirks and adjusts the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t worry, dad. I know Peter. It’s all good.” He replies, running a hand through his hand. Howard clenches his jaw.

“Come on, boys. We don’t want to be late.” His mother calls, ushering the two to the car. Howard still looks pissed as he climbs into the driver’s seat, Tony scrolling through Instagram as they drive to the Parker’s. A picture of Peter appears, the omega posing on the hood of a cherry red ‘65 Thunderbird. His long, milky legs are displayed by his tiny red running shorts. A sliver of his toned stomach is exposed by his cream Coca Cola crop top. His almond hair looks like it’s blowing in the wind. Red heart-shaped glasses frame his face perfectly. The caption reads _“Taste the Feeling! ♥️♥️”_.

A small part of Tony wants to taste _him_.

He ignores that part.

“Now you behave, Anthony. This deal is important, we’re paying Benjamin a lot of money for his program.” Howard reminds him.

“Yeah yeah,” Tony replies, rolling his eyes and itching for a smoke. They pull up to one of the apartment complexes in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Tony begrudgingly follows his parents, the elevator operator nervously pressing the buttons. The elevator brings them directly to Peter’s penthouse because of course, the Parkers have a penthouse.

“Oh, hello!” A voice exclaims from the kitchen. He stands awkwardly until Mrs. Parker emerges from the other room. “Welcome, all of you!” She exclaims, giving his mom a hug.

“Oh, Anthony, I remember when you were just a baby. Your mother came to me for a dress for a gala, and she brought you along. You’ve grown into such a handsome alpha.”

Tony flushes, embarrassed. His mom laughs loudly and pinches his cheeks.

“Peter should be down soon, he always takes forever to get ready.” Mrs. Parker complains, pushing her glasses farther up her nose. “Benjamin is picking some whiskey from the cellar. Why don’t you come sit down?”

Mrs. Parker leads them to the living room, where the couches are covered with blankets and the fireplace roars. Tony sinks into the knitted blanket, sighing heavily.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry I’m late!”

Peter Parker is at the top of the steps, in a tight, glittery maroon dress, looking like an absolute vision.

“Come down, Pete.” His aunt calls with a smile. The omega’s heels click on the hardwood staircase as he comes downstairs. He’s prettier up close, a silver glittery barrette holding his curls out of his face. Gold glitter is swept over his cheeks and eyelids.

“_Anthony_,” He says, scrunching up his button nose. Tony winks at him. The only empty seat is next to the alpha, so Peter daintily sits down on the couch. He smells divine, like expensive floral perfume mixed with the sweet scent of omega.

“You can call me Tony, you know.” The alpha purrs under the voices of his parents and Mrs. Parker. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Dully noted.” He snaps back, but Tony just laughs.

Dinner goes on slowly and Tony keeps his mouth shut. Peter’s _definitely_ checking him out (or maybe that’s just Tony’s ego.) During the meal of lamb and beef, Tony notices a bruise blooming under the hem of his dress.

The omega gives him a glare and adjusts his collar.

✨👑✨

“Did you hear? We’re being assigned partners this time.”

“Ugh, _gag_,” Peter grumbles, tapping his pink pen on his pink notebook.

“I _know_,” Loki responds, eyes glancing to the back of the room. “I hope I get paired up with Thor, though.”

Peter smiles and picks at his cuticle.

“He better ask you to homecoming. I’m blackmailing him if he doesn’t by Friday.” He says nonchalantly, eyeing the burly blonde in the back of the room. He’s laughing about something with Anthony.

“_Peter_. I’ll beat you to it, you know that.” Loki jokes. Peter nudges him in the shoulder of his dark green sweater. The class quiets down when Ms. Hill steps into the room.

“Good afternoon, everyone. As you may have heard from the other classes, we’re starting our quarter project.” She announces. “I’ll be assigning you into partners, and you’ll be researching the impact and achievements of a Chinese dynasty.” 

The glass groans, a few pairs of eyes flicking around nervously.

“Calm down. It’s senior year, you should all know each other by now. I’ve already have your partners, so listen up…”

Peter studies his French manicure as Ms. Hill calls out their names. He gives Loki a wink when the teacher pairs Thor with him for the Tang Dynasty. It’s getting to the end of the list, and Peter’s worried that Ms. Hill might have forgotten him, then-

“Tony and Peter. Song Dynasty.”

The omega dies a little inside.

“Alright, get to work! Rubrics are on my desk, get brainstorming!”

The class disperses into a flurry of noise and movement. Tony slowly stalks over to him like the douchebag he is.

“How about you get the rubric?” Peter suggests, but it’s more of an order than anything. Tony smirks and places his pencil on the desk next to Peter.

“Anything for you, princess.” He teases, causing the omega to flush a bright red. Peter doodles in his notebook until Tony gets back with two rubrics.

“Song Dynasty. I’m fuckin’ pumped.”

This actually makes Peter giggle a little bit.

“Calm down, Anthony.” He quips back, a small smile on his face.

It turns out the two work together pretty well.

Tony’s definitely not a slacker, and had avid ideas that Peter wrote down. They settled on a comedy-style presentation. (Which Peter would neverdo, but who can say no to Tony’s puppy dog eyes?)

When the bell rings, Tony walks him to his next class, like a…gentleman.

Who knew?

✨👑✨

“Good morning Midtown! I’m Peter Parker, your SGA President.”

Tony turns his attention to the T.V in the hallway. Peter sits at the newscaster desk, in a navy and white tennis polo, a matching headband pushing back his curls, and two big pearls adorning his ears. Tony could purr, but he pinches himself. There’s no way he can be falling for _Peter Parker._

No way.

The entire hallway goes silent, in awe of their queen on the screen.

“A quick reminder-next week is spirit week! The days are posted on our Instagram and around the school. Don’t forget to buy your homecoming tickets. They’re being sold all week in the cafeteria. Thanks, and have a wonderful day!”

Everyone resumes their conversation.

Tony slams his locker shut.

✨👑✨

“Oh god, you are _not_ making me ride that.”

Tony laughs loudly and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Peter stands with his arms crossed over his baby blue Chanel sweater. His pink lips are turned down into a frown, button nose scrunched like it always is.

“I am. Unless you want to walk?” Tony coos, handing his helmet to the omega. His honey eyes glance down at the black helmet, then back up to Tony.

“You’ll keep me safe?” Peter asks quietly, his bitchy facade dropping. Tony’s eyes widen.

“Oh, of course, Pete. I’d never let anything happen to you.” The alpha responds, genuine care in his voice.

“Well, then let’s go, slowpoke.” Peter huffs, placing the ill-fitting helmet on top of his curls. Tony chuckles and straddles the bike, waiting as Peter slowly wraps his arms around his torso, resting his cheek on his back.

“Hold on!” Tony calls as he starts the bike, causing the tiny omega to yelp. They leave school, weaving through the cars and students. Peter shouts directions to his house in Tony’s ear, the alpha smiling as the wind whips behind him. They eventually arrive at Peter’s apartment complex, parking his motorcycle in the garage for the occupants.

“That _sucked_,” Peter grumbles, but-Tony sniffs the air.

Peter’s turned on.

He’s about to crack a joke, but stops himself. Peter looks at the ground, embarrassed.

“Sorry. Didn’t bring my car.”

Peter tries to hide his smile.

The omega brings him up to his penthouse, heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“Do you want anything, Tony? I’ve got…quite a lot.” Peter asks, grabbing some wheat crackers and spread from the fridge. Tony shucks off his leather jacket, placing it over the back of the chair. He runs his hand over the cool marble counter.

“I’m good, but thank you.” He responds, pulling his notebook out of his bag. Peter shrugs, grabbing his book bag.

“Suit yourself. Let’s go upstairs, my aunt will be home soon.” He tells Tony, not sparing him a second glance before heading to the staircase. The alpha rushes behind him, narrowly avoiding an expensive looking vase. They turn right down the hallway, pictures of Peter at all stages of his life on the walls. One catches Tony’s eyes, a little baby Peter with a big blue bow on his head, smiling as he plays in a pile of leaves.

“Please don’t touch anything, Anthony.” Peter sniffs when they reach his room, pink exploding in Tony’s vision. His room is huge, perfectly cleaned and organized. There are pictures _everywhere_, Peter smiling with his friends. A king-sized canopy bed sits in the middle of the room, expensive silk pillows arranged with care. Peter plops himself on the ground, spreading out his papers.

”Your room is…nice.” Tony comments, sitting on the ground next to Peter. He’s still overwhelmed by the omegan aroma filling the room.

”Thank you.” Peter says softly, clearly pleased.

”Should we get started? I had some ideas about how we should present the civil service exam.”

They get a big chunk of their work done but end up talking about everything butthe Song Dynasty. Peter’s actually really fucking smart, wanting to study biological engineering in college. He’s down to earth and an absolute sweetheart when he’s not surrounded by the student body.

And he’s really fucking pretty.

”I know! Fury is such a hardass!” Peter exclaims through giggles, tears coming out of his big doe eyes. His curls are a mess, splayed underneath his head.

Tony isn’t thinking when he reaches over and thumbs away Peter’s happy tears.

The omega blinks in surprise, but-

sucks Tony’s thumb into his mouth.

Tony growls loudly, removing his thumb from Peter’s mouth with a pop, leaning down, and pressing his lips to the other’s. The omega is everything Tony thought he would be. Sweet like sugar, with the remnants of the crackers on his tongue. He hums happily as Tony picks him up, pulling the smaller into his lap.

“Tony-“

“I fucking like you, Parker.”

“_Tony_,” Peter whispers as the alpha lightly drags his fingers over his bare thighs. “Tony, I have a boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be your boyfriend, Peter.” Tony says, almost frantically. “He-He fucking _hurts_ you.”

Peter flinches at his word choice.

“He doesn’t. It’s none of your business.” The omega breathes, avoiding Tony’s gaze.

“Peter, please tell someone. Or break up with him, I don’t care.” The alpha pleads, taking Peter’s hands in his. The omega rips them away.

“He loves me. Please drop it.”

Tony bites his tongue.

✨👑✨

“Loki, your bow is crooked.”

Loki rolls his eyes and spins around.

“Then fix it, Peter.”

Peter laughs and straightens the blue bow that holds his black, silky hair out of his face. It’s Class Colors Friday, the seniors getting their rightful color of blue. Harley takes a bite of his sandwich, looking over Peter’s shoulder.

“Uh, Pete? Quentin’s coming over here, and he looks _mad_.”

Peter turns around, seeing his boyfriend heading towards him with a scowl on his face. Peter pretends to light up, giving him a small wave. Before he can greet the alpha, he’s grabbing Peter by his cheerleading jacket.

“You fucking _slut_,” He growls, blue eyes narrowed. “You sleeping around with Stark now?”

Peter whimpers as his breathing picks up.

“Quent, you’re making a scene.” He whispers, tugging at the alpha’s sleeve gently. Quentin grins menacingly.

“Am I, now?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “That’s high praise coming from a drama queen like yourself. Have fun finding another homecoming date.”

With that, Quentin pushes him back, and storms out of the cafeteria. Peter follows him, ignoring the shouts from his friends.

“Quentin, baby, _wait_!” The omega calls out once they get into the hallway, causing the alpha to spin around.

“Is it true? You made out with Stark?”

Peter’s bottom lip quivers as he stays silent. Quentin sighs exasperatedly, clenching his fists tightly.

“You deserve everything I did to you, Peter. And I hope you fucking know it.”

Peter doesn’t see his, well, _ex-boyfriend_, leave through his tears. He shuffles off to the omega restroom, trying to keep his mascara from running. He sifts through his purse for his little packet of tissues, dabbing at his eyes frantically. The door swings open, and Peter expects Loki and Harley, but the smell of smoke and musky alpha fills the room.

“Shit, Peter, I’m so fucking sorry,” Tony says quickly. Peter just whimpers and cuddles into the alpha’s torso.

“You were right,” He cries, breathing in deep breaths of Tony’s scent. The other boy strokes his curls, shushing him. “And now I don’t have a homecoming date, and all my friends do, and senior year is just going to suck.”

Tony sighs deeply from above him.

“I can go with you, if you want.”

Peter looks up into Tony’s deep brown eyes.

“Are you asking me out, Anthony?” He teases, poking the alpha’s cheek. His eyes widen in surprised.

“No! Not at all. I’m just saying, if you wanted to, I’d be willing to go with you.”

Peter laughs and kisses him.

✨👑✨

Tony’s so fucking nervous.

His hands shake as he grips the stupid plastic corsage box in one, ringing the doorbell with the other.

Mrs. Parker opens the door.

“Tony. Come on in. Peter will be down in a second.” She says with a glint in her eyes. Tony follows her into the apartment, perfectly clean, like always.

“Let me see,” Mrs. Parker smiles, leaning over to look at the corsage in the box. “He’ll love it.”

Speaking of him-

Peter Parker appears at the top of the steps.

Tony’s mouth parts subconsciously. Peter looks-Peter looks _stunning_. His dress is a cherry red that matches his lipstick, all lace and off the shoulder. He walks down slowly, smoothing the skirt of his dress.

“Peter, oh my god, you look _beautiful_.” Tony sputters as Peter gives him a peck on the cheek.

“And you look handsome,” The omega responds, thin fingers adjusting Tony’s tie. “You bought a corsage!”

Tony laughs, opening the box and picking up the white rose. He adjusts it on Peter’s wrist as the other boy pins a white boutonniere to Tony’s lapel.

“Perfect,” He coos, pressing another kiss to Tony’s jaw.

Mrs. Parker gives him a quick, threatening talk as Peter uses the bathroom. Peter fake swoons when Tony opens the passenger door to his Audi.

They’re the perfect pair.

They take pictures and dance and kiss and it’s everything Tony could ever dream of. Peter wins homecoming queen, as he should. He looks divine on stage, sparkling tiara on his curls and smiling wide.

“_Alpha_,” Peter whines, 30 minutes before the dance ends, making Tony’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, baby?” Tony responds, grinding his hips forward against Peter’s ass, a quiet ‘oof’ falling from his lips.

“Can-Can we go back to your place? If your parents aren’t home-“

“Fuck yes.”

The car is thick with the scent of arousal, the mixing of their pheromones making Tony crazy. They’re on top of each other once they make it inside.

“Tony, where’s your room?” Peter moans as Tony nibbles on his neck. The alpha doesn’t respond, instead lifts the smaller into his arms. Tony rushes upstairs, making sure he doesn’t drop Peter. They collapse onto the bed, Tony pressing his lips to Peter’s. He tastes delicious, as always, and Tony can’t help but moan. He pulls off of Peter, shucking off his suit jacket as Peter stands up.

“Alpha, can you help undo my dress?”

That phrase sends a jolt of arousal to Tony’s dick.

He obeys, thick fingers tugging the silver zipper down. Peter steps out of the dress, his freckled back on full display, as well as his delectable ass that’s barely covered by white panties. In awe, Tony runs his fingers over the pale stretch marks littering his flesh.

“Is that- are they too gross? Quentin always said t-they were ugly.”

Tony’s speechless.

“No, no, baby,” He coos, spinning Peter around so he can see his face. His doe eyes shine with oncoming tears. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that? You’re the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

Peter giggles shyly, flushed.

“Fuck Quentin. He’s a pussy, not a real alpha. He never deserved you. You’re perfect, my little omega.”

They make love.

There’s nothing else to call it-not fucking, not sex. Peter rides him for everything he’s worth, tiny cock leaking against his stomach as his thick thighs straddle Tony’s. The tiara stays on, his curls becoming damp with sweat. Tony doesn’t last long, he pops his knot too early, but he doesn’t mind, since Peter is right behind him.

“Tony?” The omega whispers after Tony slipped out of him and cleaned them up.

“Yeah?” The alpha responds, breath hitting the back of Peter’s neck.

“I fucking like you, Stark.”

Tony laughs, pulls Peter closer under the covers, and kisses him.


	27. starker x winterspider: learn to love you

##  learn to love you 

starker and winterspider

words: 4K

warnings: background thorki. extreme societal inequality. omegas are treated like objects to be sold. daddy kink. blow jobs. spanking. cheating. semi-panic attack. eventual stucky. you’ve been warned.

author’s note: this isn’t really how I wished it turned out, but I hope it’s okay

_Stephen Strange: Found an omega, kicked out by his Alpha. Very pretty. Can your boys clean him up? I can take him off your hands afterwards if you don’t want him._

Tony groans heavily, rubbing his face and leaning back in his office chair. He loves Strange, he really does, but the omega trainer always asks for favors. He always pays Tony back, of course, he’s a very punctual man, but Tony has a very strained patience.

_Tony: Fine. I doubt he’ll be up to my standards, so be prepared to find him a home. Can you bring him up now?_

_Stephen Strange: Yes. We are on our way._

Tony slips his phone into the pocket of his slacks, standing up and leaving his office. He lets out a sigh of relief as the overwhelming scent of sweet omega and cookies fills his nostrils. One of the boys must have baked and Tony can guess it was Bruce. As quietly as he can, he makes his way down the penthouse’s sleek hardwood stairs. He smiles as the living room comes into view. The fireplace is dying out, the orange flames flickering weakly. Pretty Woman plays on the flatscreen above the hearth, nearing the end of the movie.

The best part about the open room is the people that inhabit it.

Pietro is curled up in the corner of the black sofa, fast asleep and covered by one of the many white fluffy blankets. Clint is seated in the middle of the couch, watching the movie intently, back straight. Bruce nibbles on a cookie next to him. And, of course, his own omega is kneeling on the plush carpet, doing Loki’s hair.

“Daddy!” Peter whispers excitedly, beckoning Tony over to where he sits on the floor. The older man walks over quietly, trying not to block the T.V screen.

“Don’t you _love _Loki’s hair?” Peter giddies, tying the bottom of his new braid that’s weaved with tiny blue flowers.

“It looks beautiful, angel,” Tony starts, resting a hand on the small of the boy’s back, who lights up, “But won’t it get all messed up while Loki sleeps?”

Peter pouts, defeated.

“But, it took so long,” He whines, squeezing Loki’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, Peter. You can just do it again tomorrow.” Loki reassures him, forest green silk robe falling off his pale shoulder. Peter claps happily, giving the other omega a kiss on the cheek.

“No kiss for me?” Tony jokes. Peter clambers into his alpha’s lap, kissing him sloppily.

“Love you so much,” Peter slurs, wrapping his lanky arms around Tony’s neck. The alpha lets out a soft purr, running his hands up and down Peter’s silk covered back.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings.

Peter jumps out of Tony’s lap, rushing downstairs to the front door. Loki looks at him, confused. He can hear Peter squeal _‘Mister Stephen!’ _from downstairs, followed by a hushed _‘oh my goodness!” _Pietro stirs, rubbing his eyes before gazing up at Tony.

“Mister Stark? What’s going on?” He asks softly.

“Nothing. How about you all get to bed? Lights out is in 20 minutes.” Tony tells the group of omegas. Matt already went to sleep about 2 hours ago, like he usually does. The group all gets up slowly, Clint turning the T.V off.

The hair stands up on the back of Tony’s neck when he catches the scent of Stephen, his baby boy, and a new omega.

“Alpha, we have a visitor!” Peter exclaims, bouncing through the main foyer. Stephen looks amused as he follows the young boy, guiding a terrified omega behind him.

The poor thing stares at the penthouse with wide eyes. He’s shaking slightly, making sure he distances himself from Stephen. The sight of the man makes the alpha in Tony want to take him in his arms.

“This is James Barnes.” The older man states, grimacing slightly at the unkempt omega.

“Hi James,” Tony coos. James doesn’t say anything, just squeezes his arms closer to his chest. Tony catches a quick look of disgust from Stephen. “We’re going to take care of you, sweetheart. Until Stephen can find you a home.”

James nods slowly and Tony can feel Peter’s excitement from where he’s standing.

“You can say hi, baby,” Tony tells the young boy.

“Hi! I’m Peter!” He squeals excitedly, picking up James’ hand and shaking it. That finally gets a smile out of the brunette.

“Why don’t you show James to a guest room and run him a bath?” Tony offers, squeezing the nape of Peter’s neck. Being the perfect little omega he is, he snatches James’ hand and runs off.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Sit right there while I get the bath ready!” Peter tells James, gesturing to the white toilet seat next to the tub. James sits down and Peter turns to start running the water.

“So, James,” Peter starts as he dumps some watermelon bubble bath solution in the water.

“It’s Bucky. I go by Bucky.” <strike>James</strike> Bucky corrects.

Peter kneels on the plush cream bath mat, taking a good look at the other omega. Despite the fact that he looks like he hasn’t had a shower in a week, Bucky is pretty. He definitely needs a haircut and a beard trim, but he’s not terrible looking. Peter notices a deep bite mark over his mating gland. There’s no way he’s going to get purchased with a mating bite.

“I’ll sit on the bed while you bathe. Take your time,” Peter tells Bucky, “I think my clothes should fit, if not, I can grab something else.”

He does a little finger wave and shuts the door.

Peter feels really bad for Bucky.

He’ll never find another alpha, at least one who’ll respect him, in this state. He‘s poorly trained and is already mated. Peter huffs as he plops down on the bed, yawning. The room is silent, except for the faint splashes of Bucky’s bath water. It takes a little while for him to finish, but soon Bucky is coming out of the bathroom dressed in one of Peter’s pink sweaters and a pair of his boxers.

“C’mere. Gotta go over some ground rules.” Peter says softly, patting the bed. Bucky looks at him warily and Peter flinches. “It’s fine. I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

The brunette sits down next to Peter.

“You probably already know about da-_Tony’s _business,” Bucky nods slowly, “Okay. You’ll be sleeping in this guest room until we can get you another alpha. We have a little whiteboard in the kitchen with the cooking schedule on it. I usually cook most nights, but I never do all three meals. I don’t think Tony will make you cook.”

Peter opens the chest at the foot of the bed, taking out a few cream blankets.

“Here are some extra blankets. Sleep as long as you like. Goodnight, Bucky,”

Peter shuts the door.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Good morning, daddy!”

Tony groans and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. Peter bounds up to him, _Kiss the Cook _apron tied tightly around his lanky frame. Tony does just that, leaning down to kiss his baby. Peter tastes like syrup and powdered sugar.

“I made pancakes,” He sings, pulling away. The young boy spins on his heels and picks up an extra plate of the gooey pancakes. Tony accepts it graciously with a kiss to Peter’s cheek, sitting down at the head of the dining table. Only Pietro is there, shoveling pancakes into his mouth.

“Mornin’, Pietro.” Tony grumbles, picking up his utensils that sit on his placemat. His napkin is folded into a swan and Tony chuckles a bit.

“Good Morning, Mr. Stark.” Pietro responds once he swallows his food. Peter appears next to his seat, giving his alpha a fresh glass of orange juice.

“Thanks, baby.” Tony says through a mouthful of food.

“You’re welcome!” He squeals before scurrying off to the kitchen. Tony takes his time eating his food, the pancakes cooked to perfection. Peter provided a plethora of different fruits on the side.

“Tony, Bucky is awake!” Peter chirps, him and the other omega coming into view. Tony’s heart may have skipped a beat when he laid eyes on the new member of the household.

He’s really beautiful once he’s showered and in new clothes.

“Hi, Mister Stark.” James, now Bucky, says softly as Peter pushes him into the dining chair next to the alpha.

“Good Morning, James.” Tony says coolly.

“I’d rather go by Bucky.”

Tony swallows thickly. He’d rather not train the boy without being paid.

“Attitude, Mr. Barnes.” He offers, fork clicking against his plate as the room goes silent. “If you want to find an alpha, you’re going to have to work a little harder than you usually do.”

Bucky stares at Tony with wide eyes.

“Yes, Mister Stark,” He croaks, hands shaking. Tony grins.

“That’s better.” Tony purrs, turning his attention back to the food.

This will be fun.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Don’t worry about him, Bucky. He’s hard on everyone that comes through here.”

Bucky sighs heavily as Peter coats the mascara wand in more makeup. He takes his time lathering his left group of eyelashes, because he has to look good for shopping.

“I know, I just feel bad. Everyone here pays somuch for Mister Stark to take care of them, and I didn’t pay anything.” Bucky says softly. Peter closes his mascara and turns around, smiling.

“I didn’t pay, either.” Peter tells him, giggling at his shocked face. “Neither did Loki, as well as a bunch of previous omegas. Trust me, money can get you in, or having a heart.”

Peter takes a breath.

“He sees something in you, Bucky. Just share your thanks and that’s all that matters to him.”

Bucky smiles softly at Peter.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Peter Parker’s lifestyle is ridiculous.

Bucky is blown away by the amount of money he has, or really Tony has, that he’s able to spend.

Bucky is in a shocked silence the entire day, from Peter greeting his body guard, _Miss Carol_, with a kiss on the cheek to waltzing into one of the most high class restaurants for lunch.

“Oh, _Bucky_,” Peter breathes when Bucky steps out of the changing room. The omega flushes a pretty pink, bowing his head sheepishly.

“You look gorgeous!” Peter squeals, clapping his hands happily. “Red is perfect on you.”

Bucky smiles and looks down at the top he has on. It’s a cherry red, long sleeved, cold shoulder top that fits him perfectly.

“Doesn’t he look beautiful, Miss Carol?”

The blonde alpha smirks.

Bucky gulps.

“Very,” She purrs, looking back down at her phone.

“Okay, next outfit!” Peter exclaims, hopping out of his seat and guiding Bucky back into the changing room.

His touch feels scorching.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“I found an alpha interested in Bucky.”

Peter removes his lips from Tony’s cock with a pop.

“Hm, really?” He asks, lazily stroking the alpha’s thick length. Tony groans, squeezing the arm rests of his office chair. Peter licks a stripe up the man’s cock, happily sucking at the tip.

“_Yeah_,” Tony moans, dropping his pen on his desk and gripping Peter’s hair tightly. That encourages him, the omega taking Tony down all the way to the hilt. His throat spasms around the alpha’s dick, his free hand reaching up to massage the growing knot.

“Fuck,” Tony hisses, hips bucking upwards as he starts to face fuck his baby. Peter moans happily, the sound traveling right up Tony’s cock. The younger boy involuntarily grinds down on the hardwood floor of the office.

“Peter, _fuck_, daddy’s close,” Tony pants and Peter pulls off of his dick.

“Daddy, _please_, need your come,” He babbles, sticking out his tongue while continuing with quick, even strokes of his hand. That’s what pushes Tony over the edge, spilling his release onto Peter’s angel face with a buck of his hips.

“Thank you,” Peter purrs, pressing a quick kiss to the oversensitive tip of Tony’s cock. The alpha hisses in pleasureful pain.

“Anything for my baby,” He drawls as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, zipping his jeans back up. Peter squeals happily and climbs onto Tony’s lap. His aching cocklet strains against his white panties.

“Poor thing, do you need to come?” Tony coos, swiping his thumb over the head of Peter’s member.

“_Yeahhhh_,” Peter moans, grinding his hips against Tony’s.

“That’s it, hump Daddy like the horny little puppy you are.”

Peter moans louder, circling his hips against Tony’s, chasing his release. He clings to the older man’s shoulders, speeding up his thrusts with tiny ah ah ahs. His hips finally stutter against Tony’s as he comes all over the alpha’s black t-shirt.

“Good boy,” Tony praises, brushing a few of Peter’s sweaty curls out of his face. Peter smiles softly, face pink and lips wet.

“Daddy?” He asks, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Yeah, baby?” Tony responds, taking a deep breath of the scent of flowers and sex.

“How long will Bucky be with us?” 

Tony sighs heavily, rubbing the younger’s back.

“A week. Why?”

“No reason.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Daddy found you an alpha.”

Bucky tenses up as Peter ties his bun.

“Really?” He asks softly. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Yes really.” He teases. “Your first meeting is tomorrow morning over coffee.”

Bucky doesn’t respond and Peter pouts. How can the omega not be excited about an interested Alpha?

“Bucky. You should be excited!”

Bucky turns around in his chair.

“I know. I’m just worried.” He mutters, pulling at the sleeves of his lavender sweater. Peter takes a deep breath, twirling a strand of the other omega’s hair between his fingers.

“Worried of what? I’d be surprised if someone didn’t like you.”

Bucky flushes.

“My last alpha was terrifying. I don’t want that to happen again.” He says solemnly, looking at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Peter starts, “But Tony does intense background checks. He’d never give anyone an omega if he didn’t trust them.”

Bucky smiles.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

There’s a knock on the door.

Tony furrows his brows. The boys know the rules. They know not to disturb him when he’s working.

Besides Peter.

He’ll always make an exception for Peter.

“Come in,” He grunts, continuing the paperwork on his desk. He has stacks of government papers to do, since Loki is going home with an alpha tomorrow. It’s ridiculous how much paperwork there is to get an omega’s documents changed.

The oak door creaks open and the boy does not smell like Peter.

Tony looks up and sees Bucky.

He stands in the doorframe, new lilac sweater draped over his frame, Nike sweatpants on his legs.

“Mister Stark?”

Tony grins like a shark, leaning over his desk.

“Bucky. My dear. What is it?” He coos.

Bucky shifts on his feet.

“I, well, I wanted to ask about my meeting tomorrow?” He says softly. Tony chuckles, leaning back in his chair.

“Come here, Bucky. Sit down.” He orders, patting his lap. He drinks in the way Bucky’s eyes grow wide, yet he shuffled over to the alpha. Tony could groan as the little thing sits on his lap warily.

“No one told you not to disturb me while I’m working, huh?” He whispers, snaking his arm around the omega’s waist. Bucky jumps in his seat.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” He exclaims, heart rate rising.

“Hush, hush. You’re new. I don’t mind.” Tony grumbles, ghosting his fingers over Bucky’s scarred mating gland. The omega shivers, goosebumps appearing on his neck.

“The schedule will be up tomorrow. Good night, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, Mister Stark.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”

Loki raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“That’s vulgar for you, Peter.” He teases, poking the younger in the side.

“Hey,” Peter glowers, crossing his arms over his chest in mock anger. Loki chuckles, adjusting his grip on the duffel bag that’s balanced on his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you too, my dear. Thor will happily let you visit, though.” He tells Peter, resting a hand on his bicep.

“I sure hope so,” Peter jokes. “But seriously. It’s going to suck with you not being around.”

Peter loves most of the omegas that come through Tony’s training.

But Loki is special.

They just clicked when his father dropped him off for his stay. He had been angry, mad at the world, but Peter was able to help him grow into the perfect omega he is today.

“I think you’ll be able to manage without me.”

Both boys turn to watch a sleek black Mercedes stop in front of the apartment building. The driver’s door opens, a bulky blonde clambering out.

“Loki! Loki! It’s me!” Thor yells, waving his arms wildly. Loki looks at Peter and they both burst into laughter.

“That’s me. Bye, Peter.” Loki says as the younger boy hugs onto to him tightly.

“Bye, Loki. Keep in touch.”

“Always!” He shouts as he bounds down the steps of the apartment building, Thor engulfing the omega in a giant bear hug. Peter watches from afar as Loki peppers kisses onto his alpha’s bearded cheeks.

Peter’s heart aches.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Tell us!”

Bucky flushes and places his fork next to his plate.

The boys have been trying to pry information about the potential alpha from Bucky. It’s not going so successfully, because Bucky keeps going bright red when anyone asks.

Tony finds it endearing.

“Bucky, you’ve got to tell us.” Matt pries, taking a sip of his white wine.

“_Okay_,” Bucky says softly, earning a hoot from Clint. “He’s super sweet, a real gentleman.”

The boys listen intently as Bucky tells all the details about his date with Steve Rogers. Tony has known Steve for a long time, from when he first got married to another alpha, to when he got divorced, and now as he’s looking for an omega.

Tony eyes Peter as he pushes his food around with his fork. He never passes up Bruce’s cooking for anything.

“Peter, baby? Everything okay?” He utters in his baby’s ear. Surprisingly, Peter pushes his alpha away.

“I’m _fine_,” He grunts through clenched teeth.

“_Peter_,” Tony says firmly, brow furrowed. The conversation at the table ceases at the alpha’s voice.

“What?” The omega snaps, dropping his fork on his plate with a loud clang. The group watches in silence as Peter stands up and rushes off to his bedroom. No one speaks for a while, still holding their breath. Eventually Tony sighs and stands up, pushing his chair in slowly.

“Continue eating. I’ll be dealing with Peter.” He says coolly, rolling up the sleeves of his charcoal dress shirt. Still, no one speaks.

“Thank you for dinner, Bruce. It was wonderful.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Daddy, please stop.”

Tony delivers another slap to Peter’s red ass.

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson, sweetheart.” He coos, caressing the hot skin. Peter lets out a sob and bites down on his pillow. Tony spanks him again, groaning as the younger boy bucks his hips up.

“I thought I taught you not to mouth off years ago,” Tony drawls, delivering one more slap to Peter’s abused cheeks.

“I know, I’m sorry!” The omega cries, “It won’t happen again, please, daddy, stop.”

Tony decides that’s enough, pressing a kiss to his coccyx. He reaches over to grab some cooling lotion, uncapping the bottle and gently spreading it over Peter’s ass. He whimpers and cries as Tony tends to him.

“Daddy,” Peter whimpers, shaking slightly as he clings to his alpha. Tony pulls him into his arms, purring softly as he rubs his face in the crook of the omega’s neck.

“Daddy’s sorry, princess.” He murmurs, pressing kisses to Peter’s neck.

“No you’re not.”

Tony’s eyes grow wide as he squeezes the boy.

“What the fuck?” He growls, low in his chest. Peter lowers his head and whines. “You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

More tears fall down Peter’s cheeks, wetting Tony’s shirt.

“Do you feel like you’re not getting enough attention?” Tony asks softly, brushing a salty tear away with his thumb. Peter shakes his head, curls bouncing, damp with sweat. “Then what is it baby? You know you have to tell me.”

“It’s just, I, I think Bucky should stay here.” Peter blabbers, nervously fiddling with his silver Pandora bracelet. Tony got it for him as a courting gift, along with a few other presents.

“I think we could open our relationship.” Peter says softly, sniffling.

“_No_.”

Peter looks at Tony with wide eyes.

“No?” He repeats. Tony may have a problem with saying no to his baby boy. The word doesn’t usually come out of Tony’s mouth on the regular.

“No, baby.” Tony says again.

“But-“

“No.”

Tony’s almost seeing green as more tears fall down Peter’s face. He hates seeing Peter cry, but he’s more angry than sympathetic. How could Peter even think about another man, let alone one he barely knows.

Peter chokes back a sob.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Bucky, you gotta be quiet!”

Bucky stifles back a laugh as he pads through the kitchen. Peter opens the black cupboard carefully, trying not to make any noise. Bucky leans over his shoulder, shining the flashlight on his phone. Peter grabs a packet of Keebler cookies.

“Come on, let’s go!” Peter whispers through giggles, pulling on Bucky’s hand and running back upstairs. They creep through the hallway, trying their best to keep the hardwood floors from creaking. They finally reach Bucky’s guest room, collapsing onto the cream bed in a fit of giggles.

“That was like, Mission Impossible.” Bucky wheezes, folding his hands on his stomach. Peter shakes his head, still giggling softly as he turns on his side. Bucky does the same, chocolate locks falling over his shoulders. The corners of his blue eyes crinkle, sparkling with laughter and maybe a bit of sleep deprivation.

“You’re really pretty,” Peter breathes, strawberry lips parted slightly. Bucky smiles softly, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.

“You think?” He jokes.

“Yeah.”

And before Peter knows it, they’re kissing. They’re kissing, and it’s so soft and delicate and Peter’s never had anything like it. Bucky tastes sweet, a stark contrast from the sharp whiskey taste of Tony.

Tony.

Peter pulls away quickly, sitting straight. Bucky flinches.

“Oh god,” Peter breathes, guilt washing over him. He’s never had a panic attack before, but Tony has them quite frequently. And Peter’s pretty sure this is what it feels like.

“Oh _god_,” Peter repeats, breathing heavily. “I’m the worst omega ever.”

Bucky sits up, resting a hand on Peter’s bicep.

“No you’re not. That was my fault. I’m sorry.” He says gently. Peter shakes his head.

“That was all me. I’m such a fucking idiot.” He hisses. “I’ll go now. I’m sorry, Bucky.”

Bucky reaches out for Peter, but the boy is gone in a flash.

Peter can’t help the tears from running down his face as he creeps into his own room. He can hear Tony’s soft snores, muffled by his pillow. Peter climbs into their nest, lying next to his alpha and curling up tight. He breathes in deeply, Tony’s scent of smoke and cologne filling his nostrils. It calms him down, pressing closer to his alpha.

The soft snoring and puffs of air hitting the back of his neck

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“I’m glad you like him, Steve.”

The blonde smiles and wipes the corner of his mouth.

“I couldn’t be happier. I can’t wait for him to move in.” He coos, squeezing the back of Bucky’s neck. The brunette looks down at his steak.

Tony smiles tightly at Steve and squeezes his own omega’s thigh from under the table. Peter jumps slightly, shoving another piece of Filet Mignon in his mouth. Tony chuckles and lets out a quick purr, causing the younger to blush sheepishly. Tony watches as Bucky tugs on Steve’s sleeve, whispering something in his ear.

“We’re going to head to the restroom real quick.” Steve tells the table. The pair stands up, the blonde holding out his arm for Bucky.

“I wonder what they’re doing in there.” Tony jokes, taking a sip of his scotch. Peter scoffs and hits his arm lightly.

“Daddy,” He scolds, but the usual light playfulness is gone. Tony eyes his baby warily.

A heavy silence hangs between the two.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Did you love him at first?”

Peter furrows his brows.

“Hm?”

Bucky glances to where Steve and Tony stand by the grey Audi parked by the curb.

“Mister Stark.” He says softly, still watching the two alphas. Peter sighs.

“I fell in love with him while I was in his care. So yeah, I loved him at first,” Peter recalls, heart warm at the thought of his beginnings with Tony. “An alpha did choose me though. I think if I wasn’t with Tony, I’d learn to love that alpha.”

Steve waves to Bucky.

“Yeah. Learn to love.”


	28. starker: gangleader!tony x sweetheart!peter

“What?”

Bucky swallows and tries to stop his hand from shaking. His calloused fingers graze over the button next to 5A, the label yellowed and the corners peeling off.

“Hey, it’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” He manages to croak, making a mental note to buy a water bottle to carry around.

“You can head up.” The smooth voice says from the old speaker. The thing clicks off, leaving Bucky standing in the musty lobby of the apartment building. He eyes the stairs, rusted railings coming loose and green carpet missing in places.

It’s now or never.

Bucky climbs the stairs, to the A level, walking down the rickety hallway to apartment 5A. The disgusting yellow light flickers above him. Bucky raises his arm and knocks on the door.

The door swings open immediately, revealing a very unimpressed pale boy.

“Get inside.” He grunts, turning on his heel. Bucky follows him into the apartment, breath catching in his throat.

This doesn’t seem like a gang leader’s apartment.

Even though the white paint on the walls is chipping and the floor is a weird shade of brown, the decor makes the place look way more expensive than it actually is.

Bucky can tell that he apartment is decorated to have a beach house theme. There’s a few people sprawled out on the light teal couch, white blankets and knit pillows thrown about. There’s beer bottles on the light wash coffee table next to the vase of flowers.

And it smells like cookies.

“Bucky.”

The conversation in the room ceases. Bucky notices that the pouty boy has perched himself between the legs of a burly, long haired blonde.

“Hi, Tony.” Bucky tries to say confidently, eyeing the man who’s relaxed on the couch, beer in hand. He exudes confidence, legs spread with a smirk on his tan face.

“We’ve been waiting for you. Come, have a seat.”

Before Bucky can move, a squeal comes from the kitchen.

“Cookies are done!”

Bucky can feel the energy change in the room to pure adoration.

A dazzling young man stands in the archway with two plates of cookies. His cheeks are flushed and his Kiss the Cook apron (which Bucky would gladly do) is smeared with chocolate. He’s barefoot and in pajamas, which is so at home it scares Bucky.

Just a little.

The boy shuffles over to the coffee table and places the blue plates down.

“Thank you, Peter!” The blonde roars, and Peter leans down, earning a wet kiss on the cheek.

“Daddy,” He purrs, (Bucky shouldn’t be aroused), “You have to try some!”

Peter scrambles over to Tony, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie off of the plate. He climbs onto the gang leader’s lap, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Too many carbs for me, sweetheart.” Tony grumbles, eyes softening. Peter pouts, rubbing the cookie against Tony’s closed lips. He reluctantly opens his mouth, taking a bite of the sweet treat.

“Did you like it, daddy?”

Bucky is going to lose it.


	29. starker: alpha fighting au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this idea popped up and poked my brain so here, children. eat.  
warnings: this is like dog fighting but for people (which is terrible! not condoning anything here) and omegas are bought and sold

The gash on Tony’s lip stings when his tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting the dry flesh. The shouts and taunts of the crowd echo in his ears. He wipes the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing blood from his split knuckles on his skin.

The alpha opposite him lunges towards him, and Tony puts his arms up in defense. The man strikes his forearms and Tony takes his chance to deliver a sharp uppercut to his jaw. Pain shoots up the length of his arm, but watching the other man stumble backward has him smirking. The crowd cheers as Tony stalks towards the man, bringing his knee up to knock him in the stomach. He stumbles, even more, doubling over and crumbling onto the concrete.

He doesn’t get back up.

Someone from the crowd hands Tony a beer, and he chugs almost half of the bottle. His vision is still a little blurry and his nose is still bleeding, but it’s not the worse he’s endured.

He walks out of the makeshift fighting ring, pushing past the throng of people who wait impatiently for the next fight. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots his manager collecting money from the patrons.

Tony tries to turn the other way.

A large hand grabs Tony’s wrist, and he whips around to see the angry face of Obadiah.

“You almost lost,” He spits, yanking Tony into a shadowy, unoccupied corner. Tony looks away, avoiding the gaze of the bulky beta. He takes a sip of his beer before placing the cool glass on his swollen cheek.

“Would it be so bad if I did?” He retorts, raising his voice so he can be heard over the shouts of the crowd. Obie glares at him.

“Yeah. I’d have to retire you, you ungrateful swine,” He seethes, shoving his pudgy finger into Tony’s bare chest. “Go to my office. We have a guest we need to talk to.”

Tony cocks his eyebrow in question but doesn’t dare say anything. Obie stalks off, disappearing into the crowd. Tony turns into the cool, empty hallway, heading to the chipping door that displays a rusty manager plaque. Tony jiggles the door handle, but of course, it’s locked. He leans against the brick wall, finishing his beer. He swallows a mouthful of blood, gagging at the taste.

“Just down here, Mr. Parker.”

Tony looks up at the sound of Obadiah’s voice. He’s ushering a tall, older man down the hallway. Tony furrows his brow when he notices a small figure pressed to the side

“Why didn’t you go inside?” Obie asks, a sour look on his face.

“It’s locked,” Tony drawls, eyes stopping to look at the boy that tucked under Mr. Parker’s arm. He gets a whiff of sweet omega from the kid, who can’t be older than 17. He looks up at Tony in fear, oncoming tears glazing his honey brown eyes. Obie fiddles with his keys, finally shoving the door open. Tony lets the three enter before going inside himself, standing next to Obie’s desk while the others sit down. The poor omega is shaking in his chair, cuddling into his oversized winter coat.

“So Tony,” Obie starts, fiddling with a pen that’s on his desk. “You know you’re getting older and your time left fighting is short.”

Tony’s heart aches as he sees a tear roll down the omega’s cheek.

“Mr. Parker is willing to sell us little Peter so you can start breeding.”

Tony’s throat tightens. He knows not to argue with Obie, and this isn’t an uncommon thing, but the poor omega looks terrified.

“We’re, a little, um, short on money right now.” Mr. Parker says warily, an uncomfortable smile on his face. “Peter needs to find a mate, anyways.”

Obie unlocks the beat-up safe behind him, taking out a stack of hundred dollar bills.

“Tony, will you take Peter upstairs and get him settled in?” He asks, beginning to count out an unknown number of bills. Tony cautiously walks towards Peter, trying not to scare the boy.

“C’mere, sweet thing,” He coos, stretching out his hand and trying to give off the most comforting smell he can. Peter slowly stumbles off of the chair and into Tony’s arms. The alpha pulls him close and he whimpers softly.

“Uncle Ben,” He whispers, bottom lip quivering. “I don’t wanna go.”

Mr. Parker clenches his jaw tightly.

“I love you, Peter. But you need to go with Tony.”

Peter starts crying more and Tony struggles to get him outside. He ends up having to pinch the boy by the scruff so he calms down.

“It’s okay, honey, everything will be okay,” Tony purrs as he guides Peter to the stairwell that leads to the living area. The boy’s whimpers echo off the cream tiles. He shakes, terrified, as they open the door to the living room.

“Holy shit.” A voice pipes up from around the corner. Bucky, another fighter’s omega, is curled up in the corner of the threadbare couch, his baby in his arms. Peter’s tears slow at the presence of another omega. Tony smooths down Peter’s greasy curls as comfortingly as he can. Bucky’s baby lets out a soft cry, and the brunette shushes him.

“Come here, darlin’. It’s okay,” Bucky says softly, rocking Riley in his arms. Peter looks up at Tony, frightened, before shuffling over to the couch.

“This is Riley. Say hi, Riley.”

Peter smiles as Riley makes little baby noises.

“Hi, Riley. I’m Peter,” He mutters, beaming.

He’ll get eaten alive in this place.

Tony needs to get him out.


	30. starker: dinner time mafia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: broken bones, violence, food, peter gets horny watching tony
> 
> a/n: my heart said smut but my brain said no

The way Peter’s feeding Tony is sinful.

Leaning over the table that’s covered by a silky white tablecloth, he takes little pieces of steak on his fork and nudges it against the mob boss’ sealed lips.

“I have my own food, baby,” Tony mutters, stroking Peter’s bare thigh under the table. But the boy pouts, giving Tony the biggest puppy dog eyes that he’s ever seen.

“But I want you to try it,” Peter whines, the sparkly gloss slathered on his lips shimmering under the low lighting of the restaurant. Tony begrudgingly parts his lips, letting Peter slip the piece of juicy steak into his mouth and chewing it.

No one can resist Peter.

The younger boy presses a sloppy kiss to Tony’s scruffy cheek. He washes down the steak with a swig of his red wine.

“Do you like it, daddy?” Peter asks softly, voice dripping with adoration. Tony nods, stabbing his salad with his fork.

“It’s very good, Petey.” He mutters, pushing around the greens on his plate. Peter beams, clasping his hands together happily.

“Good!” He squeals, his high pitched voice cutting through the low murmur of the restaurant. The couple at the table next to them gives them an annoyed glare. Tony glowers at them, making the two pale and turn back to their food.

Peter daintily nibbles on his side of lobster mac and cheese, sending Tony bashful glances as he does so. The older man just chuckles, turning his attention to the fish on his plate. But, that doesn’t last long. He ends up sneaking glances at his beautiful lover as he eats, taking in the fluffy curls and freckled cheeks of the boy. Tony loves when Peter gets all dressed up, in skimpy dresses and a full face of makeup.

He’s head over fucking heels.

“Oh, _god_,” Peter moans as he swallows a tasty lump of steak and greens. “Chef Marco is an angel on this Earth.”

Tony chuckles softly, squeezing Peter’s thigh. He slips his hand closer to the younger’s crotch as nonchalantly as he can. But Peter notices, moaning softly into the rim of his wine glass. He teasingly nudges Tony’s calve under the table with his heel clad foot. Out of the corner of Tony’s eye, he sees the couple next to them watching with looks of annoyance. The older man picks up a piece of his buttered lobster with his fingers, holding it out to Peter. The boy eagerly leans over the table, slipping the piece of seafood into his mouth, then taking his time to suck all the flavor off of Tony’s thick fingers.

“My princess likes lobster,” Tony purrs, wiping his fingers on the napkin folded on his lap.

“It’s so yummy daddy,” Peter giggles, a bit louder than he should.

_Tony’s smart boy._

“Can you suck something else like that when we go home?”

The woman next to them scoffs and Peter squeals happily.

“Could you please keep that private?” The balding man in front of her snaps, brow furrowed. Tony’s grins like a shark and Peter’s face falls.

“Excuse me?” The mob boss smiles, an unfriendly lilt to his smooth baritone.

“Keep your kinky shit away from decent people, asshole.” The other man growls, a frown painted on his wife’s face. Tony stands slowly, calmly folding his napkin and placing it on his chair. A few of the tables around them fall to a hush, eyeing the scene that’s playing out.

“Hi, sir, Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

All the blood drains from the man’s plump face.

“Oh, sorry to bother you, Mister Stark, I wasn’t thinking-“ He stammers, raising his hands in surrender. Tony ignores the apologize, extending his hand.

“What’s your name?” He asks, the man weakly shaking the criminal’s outstretched hand.

“A-Albert Riley,” He stammers, peering up at Tony with fear glazed eyes.

“Hm. I’ll remember that.”

In one twist, the bones of Albert’s wrist shatter and crack. Tony turns back to the table as he screams in pain and agony. Peter sits patiently at the table, cheeks flushed with arousal.

“Daddy, I need your cock in me _now_,” He whines, gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles have turned white. Tony chuckles, throwing three $100 dollar bills on the table.

“Come on, sweetheart. I know how impatient you can be.”


	31. starker: business trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tony’s away on a business trip and Peter sends him a special video
> 
> warnings: nff, daddy kink, feminization

Tony’s phone dings at 1 in the morning.

He really shouldn’t be up, Peter would be on his ass about it, but he’s lonely and needed a drink after his long day.

His phone screen is too bright for his tired eyes, illuminating the dreary hotel room in artificial light. _Peter 💕🍑 _appears as a text message on his screen, a tiny preview of the video attachment in the corner. _“A surprise for the morning ❤️”_ the text reads. Of course, Peter thinks he’s asleep.

Tony swipes open the text, a larger size of the video file appearing. His cock twitches in his sweats, the video not the usual “life update” style Peter sends him when he’s away. The video shows his baby’s stomach and lower regions, cutting off just on his thighs. His little cock strains against the lacy fabric of his blood-red panties, the leaking tip peeking out over the waistband. Tony eagerly plays the video.

_“Hi, daddy,”_ Peter purrs, his silky voice exiting the speaker on his phone. His perfectly manicured hand comes down to lazily knead at his bulge. _“I hope you’re having fun on your business trip.”_

Tony bites his tongue and massages his own half-hard cock that’s trapped in his sweatpants.

_“I miss you,”_ Peter continues, letting out a breathy gasp when he swipes his thumb over his flushed head. _“I’m horny all the time.”_ Peter slips his panties down to his thighs, a difficult feat with one hand. He gently caresses his balls, whimpering high in his throat. Tony’s mouth waters at the sight of Peter’s cock, hard and curved, flushed a bright red and leaking precum.

_“None of my toys are big enough,” _He breathes, voice hitching when he rubs at the sensitive spot underneath the head of his dick. _“Only your cock fills me up, Mr. Stark.”_

With a muttered curse, Tony pulls his sweats down far enough so he can grab his cock. The relief makes him hiss and he starts to jack it lazily as he watches the video through hooded eyes.

_“Oh, daddy,”_ Peter whines as he moves his hand faster, the slick sound loud enough to be heard over the boy’s labored breathing.

“Fuck, baby,” Tony utters to no one, eyes transfixed on his phone screen. He tightens his fist and speeds up his movements. Peter’s thighs twitch in the video and his hips jump as he tries to fuck his own fist.

_“Can I cum, daddy? Please, I’ve been so good while you’ve been gone,”_ Peter pleads, soft moans and whimpers falling from his lips.

“Come on, Pete, cum for me, cum for daddy,” Tony chants, jacking himself impossibly fast. His dick throbs, a week without any action leaving him embarrassingly close.

_“Fuck, daddy, I’m cumming!”_

On the screen, Peter’s balls draw up to his body tightly. His cock twitches and he shoots his release all over his stomach with a cry of_ ‘Tony’ _on his lips. Tony follows suit, making a mess of his hand and the front of his grey sweats.

_“I love you,” _Peter mumbles, maneuvering the camera so it’s angled at his face. Tony smiles, taking in his angel’s flushed cheeks and tousled almond curls. _“I miss you. Come home soon.”_

The video ends.

Tony sighs heavily, opening the camera app and snapping a picture of his soft cock and messy hand. He sends it to Peter, with a text that reads:

_Look what you did to daddy, baby. Just 3 more days. Love you._


	32. starker: an alpha's rut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some self-indulgent abo
> 
> warnings: nff, mentions of breeding, abo dynamics, detailed descriptions of sickness

🌸💕🌸

It starts with a headache.

A pounding, throbbing migraine that graces Tony’s left temple once he travels 5 floors down to his work office. It thrums in time with his heart, delivering sharp, shooting pains through his skull. He pops two Advil and picks up his paperwork.

Then it’s the fever.

His entire body heats up as he sits at his desk and tries to push himself through his work. Sweat drips down his back as he huffs and puffs and his limbs shake. Nevertheless, he pushes through, turning on the ceiling fan and putting on a smile that’s closer to a grimace.

Finally, it’s the vomit.

“Mr. Stark? Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Tony waves off Justin, running his hand over his face. The gazes of his associates bore into Tony’s tense form, their annoyed faces blurring as his vision spins. Pepper places her hand on Tony’s thigh comfortingly. Her freckled nose twitches, just barely, and concern washes over her previously stern face.

“Tony, you need to go upstairs.” She says softly, the conference room silent otherwise.

The hormones running through his body say to punch her.

“No, no Pep, I’m fine, ‘s all good,” He slurs, gripping the arm of the sleek leather chair. Huh. Since when did they get different chairs?

“_Tony_,” Pepper repeats, eyes nervously flicking to Hammer, who sits at the other end of the table with a shit-eating grin on his face. Tony would say no, that’s he’s okay, but he can feel the bile rising in his throat and he needs to leave.

He stands up suddenly, the chair flying behind him over the carpet. He waves to the room as his goodbye, because if he opens his mouth he’s going to hurl _everywhere_. Tony stumbles through the hall, pushing past a group of employees and rushing into the nearest bathroom, not even bothering to lock the stall before falling to his knees and hanging his head over the toilet.

He stomachs clenches and twists as he gets rid of the bits and pieces of BLT that he had for lunch. His sweaty hands grip the edge of the black toilet bowl as he tries to steady himself.

Only God knows whose butt sat on this toilet.

He feels a little better once he’s done, washing his hands for two rounds of the ABCs and using some hand sanitizer for good measure. He looks awful, his face pale and sickly under the artificial light of the bathroom.

Tony shuffles out of the men’s room, groggily heading to his private elevator and pressing the 20th button. He has to brace himself against the silver railing, stomach starting to churn again. The doors open with a swish, revealing his spotless apartment. The sweet, sweet smell of his omega fills his nostrils, settling his stomach just a bit. He loosens his tie as he stumbles through the kitchen and into the living room.

Peter is curled up in his window seat, fast asleep in the morning sun. His chestnut curls are tousled and his strawberry pink lips are parted slightly. Tony gently sits down on to the black cushion, resting his hand on Peter’s smooth, bare thigh.

“Hm?” The omega hums, blinking the sleep from his honeydew eyes. He sticks his nose up in the air and sniffs.

“Omega,” Tony purrs, and Peter happily melts into the alpha’s embrace, dainty hands grasping at Tony’s silk dress shirt.

“Thought you were working,” Peter mumbles, sitting up so he can nuzzle and lick at Tony’s neck. The older man’s large hands encase Peter’s dainty waist, feeling the warm, baby soft skin underneath his old AC/DC shirt.

“I’m not feeling too good, baby. I think it’s my rut.”

Peter’s eyes fly open and he yanks himself out of Tony’s grip.

“Alpha, why didn’t you tell me?” He frets, thin fingers starting to unbutton Tony’s dress shirt. The alpha lets him, sighing heavily as the silk slips down his arms and off of his torso.

“I thought I could work, but clearly I’m no genius.” Tony quips, and Peter purses his lips and flicks his peck.

“You are a genius. _My_ genius,” Peter scolds, gently nipping at the other’s collar bone. “Wanna take care of you.”

Tony chuckles softly and stands up, swaying on his feet. Peter steadies him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Silently, they make their way to their bedroom, the thick scent of alpha and omega clouding his senses. Tony plops down on the bed and into their nest, letting the meticulously placed linens and blankets surround him. Peter purrs happily, gently pulling off Tony’s shoes, socks, and slacks.

“I’ll go get food and water for tomorrow, alpha,” Peter says, heading out of the bedroom to gather supplies for Tony’s rut. His absence, no matter how brief, leaves Tony’s heart aching. He decides to scramble out of the nest and brush his teeth.

The spearmint taste of the toothpaste makes his stomach lurch.

Peter comes back with two metal water bottles and a basket of protein bars and apples. They usually don’t eat much during a heat or a rut, too busing fucking like rabbits to even attempt, but during a lull, the other makes sure they get fed.

“You need to rest, alpha.” Peter coos, slipping his shirt over his head, leaving him in only his grey, boy short style boxers. Tony groans, rolling in the sheets and trying to cover himself in omega pheromones. Peter giggles and climbs into the nest, clinging onto Tony like a koala. The alpha flips the two over, pinning Peter down by the weight of his body. He starts scenting the omega, rubbing his bearded face over the miles of milky skin. Peter whines softly, letting his body fall limp at the touch of his mate. Tony growls a deep rumble in his chest, lips gently kissing Peter’s scarred mating gland. He takes his time rubbing his face all over Peter’s body, down his chest, over his stomach, on his hipbones, between his thighs. A small drop of slick drips out of Peter’s hole, his cock twitching at the scrape of Tony’s beard.

“I love you,” Tony grumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s lips. He squeals happily, wrapping his thin arms around Tony’s neck.

“I love you,” Peter repeats, letting Tony nuzzle into his neck. The alpha adjusts Peter so he’s more comfortable, wrapping his legs around the omega’s tiny form.

“Gonna take a nap,” Tony grumbles, the ache in his head and churn of his stomach gone now that he’s home. Peter just laughs softly, the last sound Tony hears before drifting off.

🌸 💕🌸

Tony cries out when he wakes up.

He’s so hard, so painfully hard, his cock red and leaking in his boxers. His stomach hurts and he’s sweating, the need to knot his mate unbearable. Blindly, he feels around on the bed, but the sleeping form of Peter isn’t there.

“_Omega_,” He whines, mouth dry like the Sahara desert. His throat burns and he pulls off his boxers, his cock hitting his toned stomach with a _thunk_. The soft pitter-patter of footsteps nears the room, and the bedroom door swings open.

“Alpha! Alpha, I’m so sorry, I needed to get an ice pack for you, I didn’t mean to leave you!” Peter babbles, turning on the bedside lamp. The omega’s thighs glisten with slick, the smell of Tony’s rut making his body prepare for breeding. Tony doesn’t respond, just growls and bares his teeth, the pheromones making his head fuzzy. Peter whines and clambers into their nest, settling on his hands and knees. He sticks his ass out in the air, presenting to his alpha, short breaths falling from his lips. Tony’s brain short-circuits, the only coherent thoughts left being _his omega_ and _hole to knot_.

Tony gets on his knees and presses the thick head of his cock against Peter’s soaked hole. The omega keens and pushes back against Tony, slipping more of his cock into his hole. With a groan, Tony pushes in all the way, gripping Peter’s hips tightly.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” Tony growls, throwing his head back and breathing in deeply. The wet heat deliciously clenches around his cock, finally giving him relief.

“Alpha, please,” Peter whines, gripping the silk sheets as tightly as he can. “_Breed me_.”

Tony sets a brutal pace, each drag of his cock making little moans and whimpers fall from Peter’s lips. The sound of skin on skin drowns out Tony’s heavy breathing. He can feel his knot start to swell already, the constant arousal bringing him quickly to his release. Peter whines and moans and cries, little cock weeping from where it hangs between his legs. Tony presses his chest to Peter’s back, grunting in the omega’s ear as he chases his orgasm. His knot begins to catch on the rim of Peter’s hole, and Tony yanks Peter backward onto his cock.

Peter cums with a scream as Tony buries his knot inside his hole, shooting thick ropes of cum inside of his mate. Tony moans before biting down hard on Peter’s swollen mating gland, lapping up the blood that trickles out of the wound.

“_Alpha_,” Peter whimpers when Tony pulls away. The older man gently lies the two down, mindful of the knot still connecting them. His cock is still half-hard inside of Peter and he groans when Peter clenches down on him teasingly.

“Love you,” Tony mumbles, letting his fingers gently graze Peter’s freckled arms.

“Love you s’much,” The omega responds, reaching over to grab a rag that’s conveniently placed at the edge of the bed. He wipes his near-dry cum off of his stomach, mumbling _yuck_ under his breath.

They lay in the nest for what feels like forever, just until Tony’s knot swells down enough, letting him slip out of Peter’s hole. The omega whines from the loss, hole twitching and cum dripping out of it. Tony’s cock twitches at the sight, a new jolt of arousal gracing his body. Peter kneels on the messy sheets, pushing Tony down so he’s propped against the edge of the nest.

“Want you to knot my mouth,” Peter pleads, settling between Tony’s legs and cupping the alpha’s balls in his small hand. Tony groans, gently yanking on Peter’s chestnut curls. The omega gently laps at the head of Tony’s cock, looking up through his thick lashes. He traces the thick vein on the underside with his tongue, the erection jumping in pleasure.

“Peter, please,” Tony groans, guiding the omega to the tip of his cock. Peter hums happily, gently taking a third of the alpha’s member in his mouth. Tony groans loudly, lazily bucking his hips upwards. That forces more cock into Peter’s mouth, and he gratefully accepts the stretch. He looks so beautiful, bent over Tony’s crotch with his mouth full of cock.

“_Omega_, fuck,” He snarls when Peter uses a hand to massage the growing knot at the base of his cock. Peter moans around the dick in his mouth, sinking down all the way so his nose brushes the patch of hair below his navel. His throat clenches around the intrusion, causing Tony to curse and moan. Peter starts to move his head up and down vigorously, the slick sounds mixing with the pheromones in the air. Tony claws at the back of Peter’s neck, thrusting up into the wet heat of his mouth. The omega lets his jaw relax, allowing Tony’s growing knot to slip into his mouth. The scrape of his teeth against the organ inches Tony closer to his second orgasm.

“Shit baby, here it comes, take it-“

Tony cums with a groan and locks his knot inside of Peter’s mouth. The omega swallows all of his cum before opening his mouth as wide as he can to let Tony’s cock slip out of his mouth.

“Alpha,” Peter purrs, nuzzling up against the inside of Tony’s thigh. He’s not hard anymore, thank god, but he’s spent as fuck.

“Wanna sleep,” Tony slurs, falling back onto the piles of blankets. Peter giggles softly, trailing his fingers over Tony’s olive thighs. Peter crawls off the bed, sifting through the basket of supplies and taking out two protein bars. The bed dips when he climbs back on, cradling Tony’s head in his lap. The wrapper crinkles as Peter opens the packaging, breaking off a piece of chocolate and nut and nudging it against Tony’s lips.

“Eat, alpha.” Peter orders and Tony obeys, slowly chewing the bar and swallowing. He only eats a few bites before he’s turning his head away, nose crinkling in disgust.

“Sleep now, alpha. I love you.”

Tony drifts off with his head in Peter’s lap, the omega singing him to sleep.


	33. superior iron man x captain hydra x kept boy peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is literally smut. that’s it.
> 
> warnings: daddy kink, little bit of degradation, exhibitionism, kind of d/s relationship???

“_Da-addy!_”

Peter has to bite the meat of his palm to keep from making any more noise. Daddy’s already angry, and he’s not in the mood to up his punishment today. Tony sighs heavily from above him, two fingers lazily dipping in and out of his slick hole. Peter keens when Tony’s thick fingers almost brush against his prostate. His other hand caresses the boy’s almond curls gently.

“So, boys, do we have a deal? I have to get the shipments out by 9 am sharp.” Tony drawls, addressing the men across from him. Peter paid them no mind when they entered the room since he was already bent over Tony’s lap.

Peter moans softly as Tony slips a third finger inside him. He tries to push back the best he can, dainty hands grasping at Tony’s armor-covered arm. The men seated at the other side of the room say something, but Peter’s arousal-muddled brain doesn’t process it. He just lets hot tears streams down his flushed cheeks, trying not to moan too loud. He looks up through his clumped lashes, trying to steal a glance at the dangerous men across from him. One of them catches his eyes and flushes.

“Fuckin’ slut,” Tony growls under his breath, curling his fingers in a way that has Peter letting out a choked cry. The tiny bell on his blue collar jingles softly. “On your knees, baby. Be a good cockwarmer while I finish with these nice men.”

Peter obediently slips off of Tony’s lap and settles on his knees under the mahogany desk. The silver symbiote armor slips up off of his lower half, letting Peter unbutton the slacks underneath and slip the older man’s half-hard cock out. Peter almost drools at the sight, at the flushed and leaking head, at the thick vein along the underside of it. More than anything he wants to give his daddy a sloppy blow job, but he knows his place. Instead, he fits as much of it as he can in his mouth, letting the thick weight of the cock rest on his tongue. Tony cards his fingers through his curls as silent praise while he finishes the meeting. Peter shudders as Tony’s cock gets harder as time passes, small bursts of salty precum coating his tongue.

His knees are sore by the time Tony tugs on the leash that’s attached to his collar.

“C’mon, pet,” Tony snaps, standing up and pulling Peter with him. The majority of the HYDRA agents are already filing out of the conference room, except Captain Rogers, who stands at the other side of the room. He looks almost as powerful as Tony, his broad chest covered with his black and red uniform, blood-red eyes blown with lust.

“Are you just gonna stand there Rogers, or are you gonna help out?” Tony snarls, lazily grinding his wet cock against Peter’s ass. Captain Rogers flushes as the boy whines. “He needs something to fill his slutty mouth.”

“_Captain_,” Peter moans breathlessly, manicured nails scratching at the varnished desk. His hand slips and he ends up knocking the cup of pens and pencils off onto the floor, landing with a clatter. Tony delivers a sharp smack to Peter’s ass, causing him to cry out. Captain Rogers practically rushes across the room and stands in front of the desk. He cups Peter’s cheek in his hand, dipping his thumb into Peter’s wet mouth. The boy whimpers, looking up through his wet lashes and pulling the best pleading look he can.

“Relax baby, daddy’s gonna fuck you now.” Tony grunts, the cool metal of his gauntlet resting on Peter’s flushed skin. He pathetically pulls at the belt that sits around Captain Roger’s waist, egging him on. He suddenly moans loudly as Tony sinks into him, heavy balls pressed flush against his ass. Captain Rogers undoes his belt, the sound of the metal making Peter shudder. His own neglected cock hangs between his legs, pitifully leaking onto the hardwood floor below. Tony starts a brutal pace, huffing and grunting as he fucks into Peter’s right body. In front of him, Captain Rogers pulls down his pants and boxers.

“_Ungh_\- Captain, you’re so _big_,” Peter moans, trying to catch the tip of the blonde’s cock on his tongue. “Puh-Please sir, can I suck you off?”

Captain Rogers moans deeply and nods, guiding his thick cock to Peter’s spit covered lips. He’s longer and thicker than Tony, but he’d never tell him that. Peter moans a little ‘thank you’ as he sucks on the angry red head of Roger’s cock. He squeezes around Tony’s cock in his ass, tears streaming down his cheeks. The captain begins to fuck his throat and Peter tries his best not to gag. Daddy’s trained him enough that it doesn’t bother him that much. Tony yanks on his leash, causing him to sputter around the thick member in his mouth.

“Such a tight little ass,” The older man hisses, reaching around to grip Peter’s tiny cock in his hand. The younger sobs, shooting his release all over the papers on the desk. Tony moans loudly, fucking Peter even though he’s too sensitive now.

“Daddy’s close, baby, keep still,” He snarls, snapping his hips furiously as he chases his own release. Captain Rogers cries loudly, shooting hot ropes of cum down Peter’s throat. The boy swallows obediently, fucking himself back onto his daddy’s cock. Tony’s not far behind, groaning in Peter’s ear as he fills his tight hole up with cum.

“Holy _shit_,” Captain Rogers breathes, pulling his flaccid member out of Peter’s mouth with a pop.

“Thank you for your cum, sir,” Peter says how Tony’s taught him to. His voice is hoarse and his throat burns, but he’s thankful nonetheless. The blonde’s cock twitches slightly at his words. Tony pulls out of his ass, making Peter whimper at the loss of the thickness.

“And thank you for doing business with me, Cap,” The older man quips, shaking hands with the other.

Captain Rogers grins menacingly.


	34. starker: “let me put on a show for you, daddy.”

“Okay daddy, are you ready?”

Tony chuckles into the rim of his glass, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. Peter promised him a special surprise when he got home from a deal in the city.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He shouts back, making himself heard to the boy who’s waiting in his walk-in closet. The door swings open and there’s his baby.

Peter’s in an intricate blood-red lingerie set, straps and lace and whatnot. He’s supporting a pretty predominant bulge from the anticipation. (Oh, to be young.) Sheer black-thigh-highs cover most of his long legs, tiny bows on the top of them and a garter belt attaching them to his waist. Tony wolf-whistles as the boy spins around, chestnut curls bouncing.

“How did I get so lucky?” Tony asks as Peter daintily lowers himself onto the older man’s lap.

“Because I tolerate you,” He sniffs, glossy lips pursed like the little brat he is. Tony’s hands encase Peter’s tiny waist that’s wrapped in black lace.

“That’s high praise, angel,” Tony mumbles, licking a stripe up the bruised column of Peter’s neck. He squirms, hips gently grinding against Tony’s crotch.

“Daddy, no touching.” Peter hisses, taking the man’s hands and setting them on the arms of the leather chair. Tony stifles a laugh and obeys. Peter likes to play the brat card, but Tony knows with a couple of touches to his body he can have Peter like putty in his hands. The boy starts to roll his hips against Tony’s half-hard cock, dainty hands coming up to caress his own body. Tony lets him do what he wants, for now.

“Work a little harder, sweetheart.” Tony drawls, taking the last sip of his scotch. Peter huffs, slipping off of the older man’s lap and onto the plush carpeted floor. He gently undoes the button of Tony’s tailored slacks, pulling down his boxers enough to slip his growing cock out. He smears the tip over his painted lips, sparkly lip gloss mixing with his pre-cum.

“That’s it,” Tony growls as Peter sucks leisurely on the head, letting the older man cup the back of his curls. “Good boy.”

Peter whimpers at the praise, taking more of Tony’s stiff cock in his mouth. He takes him all the way down to the hilt, button nose pressed against the trimmed hair above the base of his cock.

“Daddy’s perfect princess,” Tony coos, tugging on Peter’s curls. The boy pulls off his cock with an obscenely slick pop. “Do you want to ride daddy’s cock?”

“Can I, daddy? Please?” He begs, honey eyes wide with adoration.

“On the bed, sweetheart.”

Peter scrambles off of the floor and jumps onto the California King. Tony takes off his pants and boxers before unbuttoning his dress shirt. Peter moves out of the way so Tony can lie down on the bed.

“You’re so handsome, daddy.” He purrs, running his soft hands up Tony’s scarred chest. He leans down to press a few wet kisses down his pecs. Peter then straddles him backward, pulling down his panties to reveal a red jeweled plug.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Tony grunts, calloused hand caressing Peter’s baby-soft cheeks. The younger shakes his ass and rocks backward.

“Take it out,” He demands without a touch of true impatience. Tony obeys, slipping the plug out with a squelch, cum and lube from their earlier session dripping down the inside of his thighs. His raw hole flutters, missing the stretch.

“Greedy boy,” Tony growls, slipping one thick finger into the wet heat. Peter moans and tries to push back on his finger. “Always need something in you, a cock or a plug. What a slut. Turn around. I want to see your face as you fuck yourself on my cock.”

“_Daddy_,” Peter whines as he turns back around, thick thighs straddling Tony’s. He’s an absolute vision, flushed a pretty pink and covered in lace.

Tony groans loudly as Peter sinks down on his cock, all the way to the base.

“So_ full, _daddy.” He moans, nails scratching at his chest. Tony can’t help but buck his hips up.

“Shit baby, you’re still so tight.” He hisses, rocking Peter’s hips to encourage him to start moving. Peter obeys, nearly coming off of Tony’s cock before slamming back down. His own tiny cock is hard and red against his toned stomach, the tip leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. Tony strokes Peter’s dick twice, moaning loudly at the way his walls clench around his length. Tony doesn’t want to admit it, but his heart clenches with love at the sight of his boy, blissful and pleasured.

“Fuck, _daddy_, I’m gonna-“

Peter cums hard when Tony pinches his hard nipples. The older man is close, so with a swift maneuver, he flips Peter onto his back, fucking into him hard and fast. Peter moans and writhes in overstimulation under him, causing Tony to groan and shoot his load into the boy. They’re both breathing heavily and Tony rolls onto his side, flaccid cock slipping out of Peter’s cum filled hole.

“Daddy?” Peter asks softly, nuzzling up into the older man’s side. “Can we take a bath?”

Tony laughs softly and presses a gentle kiss to Peter’s sweaty forehead.

“Of course. You did such a good job for me today, sweetheart.” Tony coos, pulling Peter close to him. He blushes, bashfully looking up at Tony.

“I love you so much, daddy.”

“I love you too, baby boy.”


	35. winterspidershield: mafia au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> um so it’s @insatiable-spider ‘s birthday today and i wanted to do something special so this is for her mafia au. ily katy 🥺

“Daddy, please, ‘_m sorry_!”

The office is silent except for the sniffles coming from Peter. Quentin and his men attempt to look away respectfully.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, princess.” Steve coos, large hand gently caressing his smooth, plump ass. Peter squirms, rutting his hips against the mob boss’ thick thighs. “You need to apologize to Mister Beck.”

Quentin swallows thickly, eyes flicking over to the boy that’s bent over Steve’s lap. He meets Steve’s eyes and looks away, scared. No one would dare say anything about the situation for fear of seeing the barrel of Steve’s handgun.

“Nuh-uh,” Peter mumbles. Bucky glowers at him from the corner of the room. Steve huffs, impatient. Peter tends to get himself in trouble, mostly for the thrill of the punishment. Steve lifts up his arm and delivers a forceful smack to the younger’s right cheek. Peter sobs but grinds his leaking cock against Steve lazily.

“I’m gonna keep going, sweetheart, until you apologize.” The blonde says softly. Bucky smirks, metal arm glinting in the warm light of the office. Steve slaps him again, grunting at the loud moan that escapes Peter’s lips.

“I’m not gonna apologize, daddy. Hit me all you want.” He grumbles, attempting to adjust the blue lace babydoll that covers his torso. Steve raises an eyebrow, looking over at Bucky.

“I think he needs the belt, Bucky.”

Peter lets out a frustrated sob, writhing against Steve. Bucky’s combat boots thunk on the hardwood as he walks over to the two with a chuckle.

“Needs to be put in his place, little brat. Want me to take him now, boss?” The older man asks, tugging gently on Peter’s sweaty curls.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Steve says nonchalantly, letting Bucky scoop Peter up in his arms.

“_Stevie_,” The boy whines, trying to reach for his cock, unsuccessful when Bucky grasps his tiny wrist. He sobs loudly, cock jerking and spitting a bead of pre-cum. To his disappointment, Steve turns back to Quentin and his men.

“Alright boys, where were we?”

💙💙💙

Daddy’s so mean.

All he did was tell Mister Beck the truth, that he was being a dick.

And now he’s on his hands and knees on Steve’s California King.

The crack of Bucky’s leather belt echoes through the room, adding to the stinging on his ass. Peter makes a sound that’s like a sob mixed with a moan.

“Color, doll?” Bucky asks, stroking a loving hand over Peter’s raw, beaten flesh.

“G-Green,” He stutters, fighting the urge to reach down and quickly jerk his cock. Bucky strikes him again, harder this time. Peter rocks backward, sweat dripping down his back. He does it for what feels like the millionth time, now with his metal arm, causing stars to cloud the younger’s vision.

“Yellow, Mistah Barnes,” Peter manages to squeak, legs giving out. He collapses on the soft sheets of the bed. Bucky presses a kiss to Peter’s shoulder.

“You did so well for me, darlin’. I would let you cum, but I don’t think Mister Rogers would want you to.” Bucky says with a chuckle, uncapping the green aloe vera gel that’s kept on the nightstand. Peter groans in relief as Bucky rubs the cool substance on his abused skin.

“My my, looks like you have been taught a lesson.”

Peter smiles lopsidedly at Steve, who stands in the doorway of the bedroom. He screams power, with his dark suit and gun tucked into the waistband of his slacks.

“Da-addy,” He hiccups, letting Bucky drip his hole in wet lube.

“Hands and knees, sugar,” Steve purrs, shucking off his suit jacket and undoing his belt, throwing it to the floor with a thud. Peter fixes himself as Bucky’s metal fingers graze his tight hole. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Peter moans loudly as one thick, metal digit slips inside him. Bucky moves slowly, taking his time to flick and massage Peter’s prostate. The boy sobs in pleasure, watching Steve slip his thick cock out of his slacks. Peter’s mouth waters as he desperately tries to lick at his member.

“Needy little slut, ain’tcha?” Steve growls, rubbing the head of his hard cock against Peter’s tear-soaked lips. The boy’s own cock twitches at the sound of Steve’s Brooklyn accent. He sucks the tip of blonde’s dick into his mouth as Bucky slips another finger into his hole. Steve moans deeply, throwing his head back as he feeds more of his length into Peter’s mouth.

“Needy little hole, that is.” Bucky quips as he slips a third finger into Peter, smacking his ass with his hand. The pain combined with the pleasure has Peter coming untouched against his stomach. Although, he continues to suck Steve’s cock valiantly, letting Bucky slip his fingers out and replace them with the thick head of his cock. Peter groans around the thick length in his mouth as Bucky pushes all the way in.

“Holy shit,” He hisses, hands coming to rest on the boy’s hips. Peter wiggles teasingly, taking Steve’s cock as far as it can go. Bucky starts a brutal pace, grunting and puffing as he does. Peter can tell Steve’s close to losing it, his thrusts into the boy’s mouth becoming harder, yet sloppier.

“Yeah baby, take it.” Steve grunts, gripping Peter’s curls tight. “Daddy’s gonna cum, swallow it-“

Peter sobs as Steve’s cock twitches in his mouth before shooting his release down the younger’s throat. Bucky starts getting more vocal, finally slamming in as hard as possible and cumming deep inside Peter.

“Daddy,” Peter whispers, crawling over so he can cuddle against Steve’s clothed chest. The blonde kisses his face repeatedly. Bucky strokes the small of Peter’s back comfortingly.

“I love you, honey bun.” Steve coos, sweeping Peter’s sweaty curls out of his whiskey-colored eyes.

“Love you s’much, Stevie.”


	36. starker abo: pumpkin patch

“Are you sure you’ll be warm enough?”

Peter giggles, little button nose scrunching up. He has about 3 layers on, orange sweater covered by an olive jacket and knit scarf.

“I’ll be fine, alpha! You worry too much.” He coos, poking Tony in the cheek. The older boy can’t help but smother Peter in kisses. On his freckled cheeks, on the tip of his nose, on his collared neck.

“_Alpha_!” Peter squeals as Tony squeezes his sides lovingly. He’s just too damn cute.

“Okay, okay. You ready?” Tony asks, opening the car door. Peter nods, sitting patiently as Tony gets out to open his door.

_Berry’s Family Farm_ is in big, block letters above the main building. The green paint of the barn is chipping, seemingly painted multiple times.

“I’m so excited!” Peter whispers, clutching onto Tony’s hand. The alpha chuckles and shakes his head. Ever since Steve mentioned taking Bucky pumpkin picking, Peter has been begging Tony to do the same.

Their boots crunch on the gravel as they make their way to the front doors. Peter looks around at the vast fields, the metal tag on his collar jingling. It’s a sound Tony’s come to love.

A gush of warm air greets them when they enter the barn. There are a couple of families mulling about, two little kids weighing their pumpkins at the front counter. There’s produce everywhere, from apples to squashes. Peter gasps and tugs on Tony’s hand.

“Alpha! Look! Can we get apple cider?” The omega asks, gesturing to a sign that says _Apple Cider: $1.50_ in curly letters. Tony presses a kiss to his temple.

“After we get our pumpkins, okay?” He tells the omega, pulling him up to the counter. The older beta employee smiles at the two.

“How may I help you?” She asks softly.

“We were looking to pick pumpkins today,” Tony tells her, pulling Peter closer into his side. The younger purrs happily, tugging on Tony’s jacket sleeve.

“We have a hayride that takes everyone to the pumpkin patch. Just follow the signs over there.” She tells them before turning to help a customer pick out their apples. Peter is fixated on the assortment of wrapped cookies for sale. Omegas are always suckers for sugar, and his baby is no exception.

“I’ll get you as many cookies as you want, honey.” Tony coos, causing Peter to jump in surprise. He flushes like a rose, burying his head in his alpha’s side.

“Thank you, alpha,” He mumbles, speech muffled by the fabric of Tony’s jacket. The older boy just laughs before heading over to the back doors.

The hayride is already here, a few families starting to board. Peter perks up with renewed interest. He looks like he’s about to drop Tony’s hand and run onto the hay, so the alpha ushers him forward. They chose a spot in the corner of the cart, the hay crunching when they sit down. Peter giggles, twirling a piece of the golden hay between his fingers. Tony kisses his cheek and pulls him close.

“I love you,” He whispers into the omega’s ear. Peter smiles and nuzzles into Tony’s neck.

The hayride starts with a lurch, the tractor shooting a puff of smoke into the air. A few little kids cheer, much to the amusement of their parents. Peter starts purring as Tony strokes his tiny wrist gently. The fields are pretty, open expanses of corn and whatever else they grow here. The air is cool, not a single cloud in the baby blue sky. Peter looks like he could fall asleep in Tony’s arms, but they reach the pumpkin patch soon enough. Peter bristles with excitement when it’s their turn to get off the wagon. He has a few pieces of hay on his ass, and Tony playfully swats at it.

“Alpha,” Peter scolds, but he’s not mad in the slightest. Tony tucks his arm around Peter’s waist, like usual.

”Look at that one!” The omega squeals, pointing at a fat pumpkin that’s almost as big as his head. Tony laughs, kissing the top of Peter’s windswept curls.

”You can get whichever one you want, ” Tony promises as Peter picks up the pumpkin.

”It’s perfect!” He giggles, struggling to keep it in his arms.

”Not as perfect as you.”

Peter reaches over the pumpkin to kiss his alpha.


	37. starker: vampire king!tony x bitten!peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: blood sucking (lmao) and nff shit

Peter adores the garden.

He spends most of his time there, soaking up the autumn sun while he can. He usually brings out a book or his sketchbook, but today he just sits and looks. There’s a bench Anthony has just for him, metal with intricate designs of roses and thorns. He watches the bees go by, collecting pollen from the ink-black roses and blood-red poppies. There are a few bushes of special deep purple flowers native to Anthony’s home.

“My darling boy.”

Peter turns around, peering over his shoulder.

Anthony stands between the rows of flowers, black parasol over his head. He must have just gotten home because he’s still dressed in his charcoal suit.

“My king,” Peter purrs, accepting the kiss Anthony places on his painted lips. He trails his scarred hand down Peter’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the new bite mark.

“You’re beautiful,” Anthony whispers, sharp canines glinting in the sun. Peter smiles contently, resting his cheek on the older man’s chest. “My queen.”

Peter flushes, placing a gentle kiss to Anthony’s jaw. He adjusts the black lace adorning his wrist, exposing the pale skin underneath.

“Drink,” He says softly, bringing his wrist up to Anthony’s mouth. He chuckles, trying to push Peter’s arm away.

“I insist,” The younger pleads, letting his wrist rest against Anthony’s cold lips. “Because I love you.”

Peter whines as Anthony sinks his teeth into his skin, the sting of the wound making him grimace. Anthony drinks his fill, the sight of his mouth pressed to Peter’s wrist almost erotic. This will be the last time Anthony can feed off him, since only human blood is satisfactory. When he pulls away, his lips are stained red.

“Thank you,” He whispers, running his hands through Peter’s curls comfortingly. “I was thinking we could draw a bath? Virginia sent me salts from the ocean by our old village. Also, the chef is preparing lamb for tonight.”

Peter hums, content.

“That sounds lovely. But can he cook it softer than usual? My teeth hurt.”

Anthony laughs, peppering a kiss onto Peter’s neck.

“Of course, my _piccolo pipistrello_.”

Anthony helps him stand, pulling him into the shade of the parasol. His hand is cold against Peter’s paling skin. Anthony is incredibly handsome up close, the deep lines framing his mouth a forehead showing how old he truly is. His kind tend to see the effects of their age around five thousand years.

“Good afternoon Master Stark. Master Parker,” One of the maids, a petite greying woman named Edith, greets as they enter the back door. Peter smiles at her as she takes Anthony’s parasol.

He clutches Anthony’s arm the entire way up to the master bedroom, which is amusing to the older man.

“Here, let me.” Peter says softly when Anthony starts to undress himself. The man laughs as Peter undoes his tie with nimble fingers. Soon, Anthony is stripped naked, helping Peter out of his own dress. The expensive lace is in a puddle at his feet. Anthony rests his head on Peter’s bare shoulder, looking at them in the mirror.

“You’re a vision,” He purrs, playfully nipping at the lily white skin of Peter’s shoulder. The younger smiles, undoing the elaborate jeweled choker that rests on his neck. He’s already half hard with the way Anthony touches him, scarred hands moving up and down his body.

“_Anthony_,” Peter breathes as the other pulls down his black panties, exposing his already leaking cock. He leads Peter to the king bed, lying the boy on the blood red silk sheets. Anthony climbs on top of him, eyes flashing red in his lust. He captures Peter’s lips in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. Peter moans, eagerly kissing back, clumsily grinding against Anthony.

“Hands and knees, _bambino_.” He orders, and Peter obeys. Anthony runs his palm over the swell of Peter’s ass, causing the younger to shiver under his touch. Peter moans loudly when he feels Anthony’s breath on his tight hole.

“Are you ready, my queen?”

“Always, my king.”


	38. starker abo: homecoming

“Jesus, he’s such a fuckin’ crybaby. I feel bad for Quentin.”

Everyone turns to look at the table across the cafeteria. Peter Parker, the world’s snootiest omega, is perched on top of the navy lunch table and bawling his eyes out. Loki, a lithe snarky omega, is patting under Peter’s eyes with tissues. His usual posse huddles around him, cooing at and petting him.

“I don’t. His performance in bed probably outweighs his attitude, if you catch my drift.” Sam snickers and Bucky punches him in the arm. The alpha lets out a whine and rubs at his shoulder. “Hey! What was that for?” He snaps at his boyfriend. Bucky just narrows his eyes. Tony finds himself looking at Peter again. He seems to have calmed down a little. His friends usher him out of the cafeteria, no doubt to help him fix his makeup. Tony could gag at how fucking prissy the omega is.

“You okay, Tony? You look a little pale.” Steve says, and Tony can’t believe he’s actually concerned.

“Jeez, Steve, I’m fine. Your motherly instincts take over?”

The table howls with laughter.

“Good one, Stark!” Thor booms and Steve rolls his eyes. Tony sends a wink at Steve, a group of girls heading towards their table emerging in the corner of his eye.

“Steven,” Peggy, the beta exchange student from England, pipes up. A few of her friends giggle behind her. “Would you come with me? I have to talk to you.”

Steve nods wordlessly, trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

“He’s smitten, I tell ya’.” Bucky slurs, tossing a crumpled napkin at Sam.

“Idiot. I’ve got to piss, see you in Calc.”

Sam groans and Rhodey shouts _“TMI!”_ Tony passes a table of girls on his way out, and they all call his name. He shoots them a wink, opening the double doors to the hallway. It’s actually quiet in the hallway, aside from his combat boots thunking on the linoleum floors. He fishes through his leather jacket’s pocket, looking for his cigs, when-

“Watch where you’re fucking going!”

Tony stumbles back as he knocks into, well, none other than Peter Parker. He looks like he’s going to cry again as Loki lifts him off of the floor. The tan-skinned beta flips him a bird as they walk away.

Great.

✨👑✨

He can’t _believe_ Quent would ever say that to him. For one, he’s not a slut. He’d never cheat on Quentin, he knows that, so why did he say it? Two, Quentin’s lucky no one was around to see Peter’s tears.

What he can’t get over is how Quentin touched him like _that_.

He’s heard of alphas hitting their omegas, but it’s always been an old wive’s tale, or whatever. He guesses that Quentin’s just stressed. He didn’t do so hot on his Pre-Calc test, so maybe he has some pent up anger.

Peter needs to send him some flowers.

By the time he gets back to his apartment, he’s already tried calling Quentin three times to apologize, but the alpha never picked up. He drops his Vera Bradley book bag on the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Peter! How was school?” Uncle Ben asks from where he’s seated at the kitchen island.

Peter breaks down into tears.

Uncle Ben takes him in his arms, holding him close. That’s the thing about his uncle, whenever he’s upset he just lets Peter cry it out, never asking for an explanation. Peter appreciates when his aunt gives him advice, he really does, but sometimes it’s nicer just to be held.

“I’ve got Halotop ice cream that’s calling your name.”

Peter giggles softly as Uncle Ben ruffles his hair.

Soon enough he’s cuddled under his silk sheets, a carton of peanut butter cup ice cream in his hands. In the midst of watching Cady and Janis mix together foot cream, his phone rings. “Quentin 💕💕” lights up on the screen over a very _flattering_ picture of his boyfriend.

“Hi,” Peter answers quietly.

_“Hi honey, I just-um-wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it.”_

“It’s okay Quent, I was a bitch too. I’m sorry.” Peter responds quietly, stabbing his ice cream with his spoon.

_“You kind of were. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?”_

“Bye, love you.”

_“Bye.”_

Peter hangs up the phone, feeling emptier than before.

✨👑✨

“Anthony, you are _not_ wearing that.”

Tony smirks and adjusts the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t worry, dad. I know Peter. It’s all good.” He replies, running a hand through his hand. Howard clenches his jaw.

“Come on, boys. We don’t want to be late.” His mother calls, ushering the two to the car. Howard still looks pissed as he climbs into the driver’s seat, Tony scrolling through Instagram as they drive to the Parker’s. A picture of Peter appears, the omega posing on the hood of a cherry red ‘65 Thunderbird. His long, milky legs are displayed by his tiny red running shorts. A sliver of his toned stomach is exposed by his cream Coca Cola crop top. His almond hair looks like it’s blowing in the wind. Red heart-shaped glasses frame his face perfectly. The caption reads _“Taste the Feeling! ♥️♥️”_.

A small part of Tony wants to taste _him_.

He ignores that part.

“Now you behave, Anthony. This deal is important, we’re paying Benjamin a lot of money for his program.” Howard reminds him.

“Yeah yeah,” Tony replies, rolling his eyes and itching for a smoke. They pull up to one of the apartment complexes in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Tony begrudgingly follows his parents, the elevator operator nervously pressing the buttons. The elevator brings them directly to Peter’s penthouse because of course, the Parkers have a penthouse.

“Oh, hello!” A voice exclaims from the kitchen. He stands awkwardly until Mrs. Parker emerges from the other room. “Welcome, all of you!” She exclaims, giving his mom a hug.

“Oh, Anthony, I remember when you were just a baby. Your mother came to me for a dress for a gala, and she brought you along. You’ve grown into such a handsome alpha.”

Tony flushes, embarrassed. His mom laughs loudly and pinches his cheeks.

“Peter should be down soon, he always takes forever to get ready.” Mrs. Parker complains, pushing her glasses farther up her nose. “Benjamin is picking some whiskey from the cellar. Why don’t you come sit down?”

Mrs. Parker leads them to the living room, where the couches are covered with blankets and the fireplace roars. Tony sinks into the knitted blanket, sighing heavily.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry I’m late!”

Peter Parker is at the top of the steps, in a tight, glittery maroon dress, looking like an absolute vision.

“Come down, Pete.” His aunt calls with a smile. The omega’s heels click on the hardwood staircase as he comes downstairs. He’s prettier up close, a silver glittery barrette holding his curls out of his face. Gold glitter is swept over his cheeks and eyelids.

“_Anthony_,” He says, scrunching up his button nose. Tony winks at him. The only empty seat is next to the alpha, so Peter daintily sits down on the couch. He smells divine, like expensive floral perfume mixed with the sweet scent of omega.

“You can call me Tony, you know.” The alpha purrs under the voices of his parents and Mrs. Parker. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Dully noted.” He snaps back, but Tony just laughs.

Dinner goes on slowly and Tony keeps his mouth shut. Peter’s _definitely_ checking him out (or maybe that’s just Tony’s ego.) During the meal of lamb and beef, Tony notices a bruise blooming under the hem of his dress.

The omega gives him a glare and adjusts his collar.

✨👑✨

“Did you hear? We’re being assigned partners this time.”

“Ugh, _gag_,” Peter grumbles, tapping his pink pen on his pink notebook.

“I _know_,” Loki responds, eyes glancing to the back of the room. “I hope I get paired up with Thor, though.”

Peter smiles and picks at his cuticle.

“He better ask you to homecoming. I’m blackmailing him if he doesn’t by Friday.” He says nonchalantly, eyeing the burly blonde in the back of the room. He’s laughing about something with Anthony.

“_Peter_. I’ll beat you to it, you know that.” Loki jokes. Peter nudges him in the shoulder of his dark green sweater. The class quiets down when Ms. Hill steps into the room.

“Good afternoon, everyone. As you may have heard from the other classes, we’re starting our quarter project.” She announces. “I’ll be assigning you into partners, and you’ll be researching the impact and achievements of a Chinese dynasty.” 

The glass groans, a few pairs of eyes flicking around nervously.

“Calm down. It’s senior year, you should all know each other by now. I’ve already have your partners, so listen up…”

Peter studies his French manicure as Ms. Hill calls out their names. He gives Loki a wink when the teacher pairs Thor with him for the Tang Dynasty. It’s getting to the end of the list, and Peter’s worried that Ms. Hill might have forgotten him, then-

“Tony and Peter. Song Dynasty.”

The omega dies a little inside.

“Alright, get to work! Rubrics are on my desk, get brainstorming!”

The class disperses into a flurry of noise and movement. Tony slowly stalks over to him like the douchebag he is.

“How about you get the rubric?” Peter suggests, but it’s more of an order than anything. Tony smirks and places his pencil on the desk next to Peter.

“Anything for you, princess.” He teases, causing the omega to flush a bright red. Peter doodles in his notebook until Tony gets back with two rubrics.

“Song Dynasty. I’m fuckin’ pumped.”

This actually makes Peter giggle a little bit.

“Calm down, Anthony.” He quips back, a small smile on his face.

It turns out the two work together pretty well.

Tony’s definitely not a slacker, and had avid ideas that Peter wrote down. They settled on a comedy-style presentation. (Which Peter would neverdo, but who can say no to Tony’s puppy dog eyes?)

When the bell rings, Tony walks him to his next class, like a…gentleman.

Who knew?

✨👑✨

“Good morning Midtown! I’m Peter Parker, your SGA President.”

Tony turns his attention to the T.V in the hallway. Peter sits at the newscaster desk, in a navy and white tennis polo, a matching headband pushing back his curls, and two big pearls adorning his ears. Tony could purr, but he pinches himself. There’s no way he can be falling for _Peter Parker._

No way.

The entire hallway goes silent, in awe of their queen on the screen.

“A quick reminder-next week is spirit week! The days are posted on our Instagram and around the school. Don’t forget to buy your homecoming tickets. They’re being sold all week in the cafeteria. Thanks, and have a wonderful day!”

Everyone resumes their conversation.

Tony slams his locker shut.

✨👑✨

“Oh god, you are _not_ making me ride that.”

Tony laughs loudly and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Peter stands with his arms crossed over his baby blue Chanel sweater. His pink lips are turned down into a frown, button nose scrunched like it always is.

“I am. Unless you want to walk?” Tony coos, handing his helmet to the omega. His honey eyes glance down at the black helmet, then back up to Tony.

“You’ll keep me safe?” Peter asks quietly, his bitchy facade dropping. Tony’s eyes widen.

“Oh, of course, Pete. I’d never let anything happen to you.” The alpha responds, genuine care in his voice.

“Well, then let’s go, slowpoke.” Peter huffs, placing the ill-fitting helmet on top of his curls. Tony chuckles and straddles the bike, waiting as Peter slowly wraps his arms around his torso, resting his cheek on his back.

“Hold on!” Tony calls as he starts the bike, causing the tiny omega to yelp. They leave school, weaving through the cars and students. Peter shouts directions to his house in Tony’s ear, the alpha smiling as the wind whips behind him. They eventually arrive at Peter’s apartment complex, parking his motorcycle in the garage for the occupants.

“That _sucked_,” Peter grumbles, but-Tony sniffs the air.

Peter’s turned on.

He’s about to crack a joke, but stops himself. Peter looks at the ground, embarrassed.

“Sorry. Didn’t bring my car.”

Peter tries to hide his smile.

The omega brings him up to his penthouse, heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“Do you want anything, Tony? I’ve got…quite a lot.” Peter asks, grabbing some wheat crackers and spread from the fridge. Tony shucks off his leather jacket, placing it over the back of the chair. He runs his hand over the cool marble counter.

“I’m good, but thank you.” He responds, pulling his notebook out of his bag. Peter shrugs, grabbing his book bag.

“Suit yourself. Let’s go upstairs, my aunt will be home soon.” He tells Tony, not sparing him a second glance before heading to the staircase. The alpha rushes behind him, narrowly avoiding an expensive looking vase. They turn right down the hallway, pictures of Peter at all stages of his life on the walls. One catches Tony’s eyes, a little baby Peter with a big blue bow on his head, smiling as he plays in a pile of leaves.

“Please don’t touch anything, Anthony.” Peter sniffs when they reach his room, pink exploding in Tony’s vision. His room is huge, perfectly cleaned and organized. There are pictures _everywhere_, Peter smiling with his friends. A king-sized canopy bed sits in the middle of the room, expensive silk pillows arranged with care. Peter plops himself on the ground, spreading out his papers.

”Your room is…nice.” Tony comments, sitting on the ground next to Peter. He’s still overwhelmed by the omegan aroma filling the room.

”Thank you.” Peter says softly, clearly pleased.

”Should we get started? I had some ideas about how we should present the civil service exam.”

They get a big chunk of their work done but end up talking about everything butthe Song Dynasty. Peter’s actually really fucking smart, wanting to study biological engineering in college. He’s down to earth and an absolute sweetheart when he’s not surrounded by the student body.

And he’s really fucking pretty.

”I know! Fury is such a hardass!” Peter exclaims through giggles, tears coming out of his big doe eyes. His curls are a mess, splayed underneath his head.

Tony isn’t thinking when he reaches over and thumbs away Peter’s happy tears.

The omega blinks in surprise, but-

sucks Tony’s thumb into his mouth.

Tony growls loudly, removing his thumb from Peter’s mouth with a pop, leaning down, and pressing his lips to the other’s. The omega is everything Tony thought he would be. Sweet like sugar, with the remnants of the crackers on his tongue. He hums happily as Tony picks him up, pulling the smaller into his lap.

“Tony-“

“I fucking like you, Parker.”

“_Tony_,” Peter whispers as the alpha lightly drags his fingers over his bare thighs. “Tony, I have a boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be your boyfriend, Peter.” Tony says, almost frantically. “He-He fucking _hurts_ you.”

Peter flinches at his word choice.

“He doesn’t. It’s none of your business.” The omega breathes, avoiding Tony’s gaze.

“Peter, please tell someone. Or break up with him, I don’t care.” The alpha pleads, taking Peter’s hands in his. The omega rips them away.

“He loves me. Please drop it.”

Tony bites his tongue.

✨👑✨

“Loki, your bow is crooked.”

Loki rolls his eyes and spins around.

“Then fix it, Peter.”

Peter laughs and straightens the blue bow that holds his black, silky hair out of his face. It’s Class Colors Friday, the seniors getting their rightful color of blue. Harley takes a bite of his sandwich, looking over Peter’s shoulder.

“Uh, Pete? Quentin’s coming over here, and he looks _mad_.”

Peter turns around, seeing his boyfriend heading towards him with a scowl on his face. Peter pretends to light up, giving him a small wave. Before he can greet the alpha, he’s grabbing Peter by his cheerleading jacket.

“You fucking _slut_,” He growls, blue eyes narrowed. “You sleeping around with Stark now?”

Peter whimpers as his breathing picks up.

“Quent, you’re making a scene.” He whispers, tugging at the alpha’s sleeve gently. Quentin grins menacingly.

“Am I, now?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “That’s high praise coming from a drama queen like yourself. Have fun finding another homecoming date.”

With that, Quentin pushes him back, and storms out of the cafeteria. Peter follows him, ignoring the shouts from his friends.

“Quentin, baby, _wait_!” The omega calls out once they get into the hallway, causing the alpha to spin around.

“Is it true? You made out with Stark?”

Peter’s bottom lip quivers as he stays silent. Quentin sighs exasperatedly, clenching his fists tightly.

“You deserve everything I did to you, Peter. And I hope you fucking know it.”

Peter doesn’t see his, well, _ex-boyfriend_, leave through his tears. He shuffles off to the omega restroom, trying to keep his mascara from running. He sifts through his purse for his little packet of tissues, dabbing at his eyes frantically. The door swings open, and Peter expects Loki and Harley, but the smell of smoke and musky alpha fills the room.

“Shit, Peter, I’m so fucking sorry,” Tony says quickly. Peter just whimpers and cuddles into the alpha’s torso.

“You were right,” He cries, breathing in deep breaths of Tony’s scent. The other boy strokes his curls, shushing him. “And now I don’t have a homecoming date, and all my friends do, and senior year is just going to suck.”

Tony sighs deeply from above him.

“I can go with you, if you want.”

Peter looks up into Tony’s deep brown eyes.

“Are you asking me out, Anthony?” He teases, poking the alpha’s cheek. His eyes widen in surprised.

“No! Not at all. I’m just saying, if you wanted to, I’d be willing to go with you.”

Peter laughs and kisses him.

✨👑✨

Tony’s so fucking nervous.

His hands shake as he grips the stupid plastic corsage box in one, ringing the doorbell with the other.

Mrs. Parker opens the door.

“Tony. Come on in. Peter will be down in a second.” She says with a glint in her eyes. Tony follows her into the apartment, perfectly clean, like always.

“Let me see,” Mrs. Parker smiles, leaning over to look at the corsage in the box. “He’ll love it.”

Speaking of him-

Peter Parker appears at the top of the steps.

Tony’s mouth parts subconsciously. Peter looks-Peter looks _stunning_. His dress is a cherry red that matches his lipstick, all lace and off the shoulder. He walks down slowly, smoothing the skirt of his dress.

“Peter, oh my god, you look _beautiful_.” Tony sputters as Peter gives him a peck on the cheek.

“And you look handsome,” The omega responds, thin fingers adjusting Tony’s tie. “You bought a corsage!”

Tony laughs, opening the box and picking up the white rose. He adjusts it on Peter’s wrist as the other boy pins a white boutonniere to Tony’s lapel.

“Perfect,” He coos, pressing another kiss to Tony’s jaw.

Mrs. Parker gives him a quick, threatening talk as Peter uses the bathroom. Peter fake swoons when Tony opens the passenger door to his Audi.

They’re the perfect pair.

They take pictures and dance and kiss and it’s everything Tony could ever dream of. Peter wins homecoming queen, as he should. He looks divine on stage, sparkling tiara on his curls and smiling wide.

“_Alpha_,” Peter whines, 30 minutes before the dance ends, making Tony’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, baby?” Tony responds, grinding his hips forward against Peter’s ass, a quiet ‘oof’ falling from his lips.

“Can-Can we go back to your place? If your parents aren’t home-“

“Fuck yes.”

The car is thick with the scent of arousal, the mixing of their pheromones making Tony crazy. They’re on top of each other once they make it inside.

“Tony, where’s your room?” Peter moans as Tony nibbles on his neck. The alpha doesn’t respond, instead lifts the smaller into his arms. Tony rushes upstairs, making sure he doesn’t drop Peter. They collapse onto the bed, Tony pressing his lips to Peter’s. He tastes delicious, as always, and Tony can’t help but moan. He pulls off of Peter, shucking off his suit jacket as Peter stands up.

“Alpha, can you help undo my dress?”

That phrase sends a jolt of arousal to Tony’s dick.

He obeys, thick fingers tugging the silver zipper down. Peter steps out of the dress, his freckled back on full display, as well as his delectable ass that’s barely covered by white panties. In awe, Tony runs his fingers over the pale stretch marks littering his flesh.

“Is that- are they too gross? Quentin always said t-they were ugly.”

Tony’s speechless.

“No, no, baby,” He coos, spinning Peter around so he can see his face. His doe eyes shine with oncoming tears. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that? You’re the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

Peter giggles shyly, flushed.

“Fuck Quentin. He’s a pussy, not a real alpha. He never deserved you. You’re perfect, my little omega.”

They make love.

There’s nothing else to call it-not fucking, not sex. Peter rides him for everything he’s worth, tiny cock leaking against his stomach as his thick thighs straddle Tony’s. The tiara stays on, his curls becoming damp with sweat. Tony doesn’t last long, he pops his knot too early, but he doesn’t mind, since Peter is right behind him.

“Tony?” The omega whispers after Tony slipped out of him and cleaned them up.

“Yeah?” The alpha responds, breath hitting the back of Peter’s neck.

“I fucking like you, Stark.”

Tony laughs, pulls Peter closer under the covers, and kisses him.


	39. starker-rival equestrians au

“Hey, Peter! Are horses the only thing you can ride?”

Peter fake gags and brings Friday to a halt. Anthony Stark leans over the freshly painted white fence that surrounds the enclosure.

“You’re- You’re _disgusting_, Anthony.” He snaps, scrunching up his freckled nose and adjusting his grip on the reigns. Anthony throws his head back and laughs while Peter brings Friday to a trot, leading her to the gate.

“I’m sorry I’m not up to your standards, princess.” Anthony snickers as Peter dismounts his girl.

“Don’t call me that. I’m no one’s princess.” He hisses, shooting daggers at Anthony’s stupidface. He’s still amused, smiling wide, showing off his _stupid_ perfect teeth. Friday whinnies and Peter pats her neck.

“Woah, calm down, little miss.” Anthony jokes, but Peter can’t tell if he’s talking to him or the horse.

“Go away. I have better people to talk to.” Peter sniffs, guiding Friday out of the pen and to the stables. Anthony is relentless, jogging behind Peter.

“And who would that be? Your horse?” The other boy quips. Peter spins around and-woah, Anthony is right in front of him. Peter has to pinch himself on the thigh.

“Fuck off, Anthony.”

Anthony gapes.

“What a dirty mouth! I’m surprised. Do you need to wash that out with soap?”

Peter narrows his eyes, grabbing a fistful of Anthony’s school-issued shirt and leaning in close.

“I don’t know, Anthony.” He purrs, breath hitting the older boy’s lips. “Why don’t _you_ tell me?”


	40. how bucky barnes got involved in the mob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: just daddy kink  
a/n: idk what this is but it came out of my brain

The boy keeps coming into his shop. 

Bucky can’t complain, because he’s sweet as sugar and buys his most expensive arrangements, but something keeps bothering the florist whenever he pops in. 

“Good afternoon, Bucky!” The boy chirps that Thursday; one of the warmest days of the summer so far. The shop is empty, as most people don’t need flowers on a weekday afternoon. But Bucky is frozen behind the counter, because the boy is in the shortest and tiniest white romper. He’s sporting a slight tan from the sun, leaving freckles on his shoulders and cheeks. Bucky wants to reach out and touch him, feel the baby soft skin on his fingertips. 

“H-Hey,” Bucky stammers, snapping his mouth closed when he realizes it was hanging open. The boy gives him a sly smile and turns to browse the flowers. Bucky stands there awkwardly, but then remembers something:

He doesn’t even know the boy’s name.

“Um, sir?” He asks, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. The boy looks up from the bucket of pink roses. “May I ask what your name is? You’ve been in here a lot and I feel bad not knowing what your name is.”

Smooth, Barnes. 

“I’m Peter,” The younger replies, strawberry pink lips turned upwards in a smirk. “I appreciate you asking. You’re kind, Bucky. I like that.”

Bucky gives him a discount on his bouquet of daisies. 

***

His day goes downhill from there.

Despite the lovely weather, the New York sky eventually turns dark and breaks out into a thunderstorm. He luckily has a spare umbrella in the shop, so his walk home isn’t too bad. 

That is, until he tries to unlock his front door. 

He doesn’t get the key in the lock, because the door is already open.

Bucky’s breathing picks up as the door creaks open. He can’t afford to have his place robbed. He’s already struggling to keep the shop open, and if his savings were somehow found, he’d be doomed. 

For good measure, he flips open the can of pepper spray that’s attached to his keys. 

If the robber’s still here, he’s going to get one hell of a burn.

Without much thought, Bucky walks into his apartment, letting the door close behind him. He was expecting to be submerged in darkness, but the lights are all on. His feet carry him to the living room, and he’s ready to pepper spray the bitch-

Holy fuck. 

Tony Stark, notorious mob boss, the Merchant of Death, is sitting on his couch. 

Petting his cat. 

The pepper spray falls from Bucky’s hand and hits the floor with a clang. He’s completely frozen under the gaze of the older man. Why the fuck is Tony Stark in his house? Did his dad have some relation with the mob?

Is he going to die?

“Mister Barnes. I’ve been waiting for you,” Stark says coolly, continuing to scratch under Alpine’s chin. She looks too happy for being pet by a wanted criminal.

“You’re Tony Stark,” Bucky breathes, eyes widened in fear. “You’re Tony Stark and you’re in my apartment.”

The mob boss chuckles to himself, and unbuttons his charcoal suit jacket. 

“Thanks for reminding me. Please, sit down.”

Bucky would rather not be told what to do in his own home, but he keeps his comments to himself. On shaky legs, Bucky lowers himself onto his shitty floral print living chair. Stark stares at him for a moment, stroking his beard in thought. The sight of his tanned, calloused hand running over his facial hand shouldn’t leave Bucky a little hard in his pants. 

“My Peter has taken quite a liking to you,” Stark drawls, turning to coo at Alpine when she swats him with her paw.

Oh.

“You have a son?” Bucky asks. Of course Stark is here if Peter has mentioned him. Does that mean Peter is crushing on him? 

“Oh god no,” Stark grimaces. “My morals are shitty, but they’re not that shitty. He calls me daddy, though.”

He winks and Bucky deflates. 

He’s so stupid. How could anyone as beautiful as Peter be single? And it’s just the Barnes Luck that the boy Bucky is crushing on is dating the most dangerous man in New York, let alone the country. 

“Don’t let that ruffle your feathers, though,” Stark explains, looking at Bucky with intensity in his brown eyes. “I love my boy. Very much so. Because I love him so much, I want to see him happy. Understand?”

Bucky nods.

“And whatever makes him happy, makes me happy. Do you know the saying, Mister Barnes?” 

“There are a lot of sayings, sir,” Bucky croaks, unsure of where this is all going. Stark laughs.  
“‘Happy wife, happy life.’ If getting to kiss you and suck you off makes him happy, I’m all for it.” He explains, an amused glint in his eyes. Bucky feels his heart stop for the third time that night. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I follow,” He stammers, attempting to be polite as possible. 

“Peter wants to fuck you,” Stark explains bluntly, the words like a smack in the face to the other man. “And honestly, I see why.”

The mob boss drags his eyes down Bucky’s frame, making the man blush. 

“That’s-wow, I don’t know how to respond to that,” Bucky murmurs, stretching out his hands anxiously. “Thank you, I guess?”

“You’re a good man, Mister Barnes. Serving in Iraq? I appreciate that. Thank you for your service,” Stark continues, and Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He feels weird when anyone mentions his time with the military, especially Tony Stark. 

The quiet vibrations of Stark’s phone interrupts their conversation. The older man holds up a finger and fishes his phone from his pocket. 

“Bambino,” Stark purrs into the phone, tapping at the screen. 

“Daddy!” A very familiar voice squeals from the speaker. “Where are you? It’s late! Please tell me you didn’t go after Toomes on your own.” 

“I didn’t, baby. I’m at a friend’s,” Stark explains, giving Bucky a look. What the look means, he doesn’t know. 

“Oh god, did you seriously find Bucky? I told you not to!” Peter shouts, and Tony massages his temple. “Daddy, do not scare him off!”

“I won’t. I just want to make sure he’s good for you.”

The man’s words make Bucky feel oddly warm. 

“Fine. Come home soon, I made steak!” Peter exclaims. “I love you bunches!”

“Love you too, sweetness,” Stark says as the younger boy hangs up the phone. “You hear that, Barnes? My boy has steak waiting for me. Steak. Do you like steak?”

“Yes sir,” Bucky replies. “I like steak.”

“Good. Would you like to join us for dinner?” Stark asks, running his tongue over his bottom lip in thought. 

“Can I change first?”

Like a shark, Stark grins.


	41. DILF- spidershield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay so @lucky-starker ( @caseyhasissues) has the biggest brain ever and made this post:
> 
> “Please GOD someone write something where peter takes steves v card”
> 
> warnings: nff, highschool au

“Oh god, Steve, you look like a dad!”

Steve smiles wide as Peter giggles, rocking on his heels. The older boy spins around, showing off his Hawaiian shirt.

“Hush. I’m a very stylish dad, then,” The blonde explains, holding out his arm. Peter gladly takes it, the corners of his honey eyes crinkling from his smile. He looks beautiful, as always, dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a baby pink t-shirt that cuts off right before his navel.

“If you’re a dad, then you’re a DILF,” Peter jokes as they head down the steps from the brunette’s apartment. Steve lets out a deep belly laugh, but inside, his gut twists.

Does Peter really want to fuck him?

They have been dating for 10 months now, the longest Steve’s ever been with someone. And he knows Peter has sexual experience, since Quentin and Tony have no filter at all. But Peter has no idea he’s a virgin.

“Earth to Steve! Is anybody in there?” Peter snorts, snapping the blonde out of his thoughts. He feels a light blush creep onto his cheeks.

“H-Hey. I’m here.”

Peter throws his head back and laughs.

***

“_Stevie_, ngh, fuck.”

Steve continues to attack Peter’s neck with his mouth. The younger boy writhes in his grip, his kiss-swollen lips parted in pleasure, little whines and pants escaping from them.

“_Doll_,” Steve groans against the spot right under his boyfriend’s jaw. He slips his hands underneath Peter’s shirt, gently caressing the baby-soft skin of his torso. Peter eagerly connects their lips again, grabbing at the ends of Steve’s hair. They’ve made out more times than he can count, but for the first time-

Peter grinds his bulge down against Steve’s.

The blonde moans into Peter’s mouth, sparks of pleasure shooting up his body. He’s so hard it hurts, and having his gorgeous little boyfriend practically humping him makes it even worse. Peter pulls away, a thin string of spit between their lips.

“I need to suck you off now.”

Steve’s brain completely short-circuits as Pete slips off of his lap, getting comfortable between his legs. He quickly undoes Steve’s belt, untucking his stupid shirt and fiddling with the zipper of his jeans.

“Pete-wait,” Steve blurts, resting his hand over Peter’s. The brunette looks up with wide eyes.

“I’m a _virgin_.”

Peter blinks. Once. Twice.

“Is that a problem? I don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” He asks softly, running his fingernails down Steve clothed thighs.

“It’s not that,” The older boy mutters, trying to avoid Peter’s gaze. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Oh, Steve, I’d never be disappointed. I see your boner right now, you have to be packing quite a bit.”

The two boys erupt in giggles at Peter’s comment. It helps ease some of the nerves in Steve’s stomach.

“So, can I?” Peter asks once they catch their breath.

“Yeah, g-go ahead,” Steve says with a shaky breath. Peter happily unzips his jeans, and Steve shuffles so he can pull both his pants and boxers down.

“Holy _shit_,” Peter breathes once his cock is out and dripping. Steve swallows thickly.

“You’re huge,” The brunette whines, wrapping his fingers around the base of Steve’s cock. He hisses at the pleasure, the sight of his boyfriend touching him making the situation hotter than usual. Peter leans forward and drags his tongue across the leaking tip.

“Fuck, Peter!” Steve shouts, a moan escaping his lips as Peter continues to give the head of his cock little kitten licks. He then wraps his lips around the head and sucks. The hot, wet feeling is amazing, and he groans when Peter cups his balls in his hand. The brunette fits more of Steve’s cock in his mouth, and he starts to move his head up and down.

“Oh my god, I’m not gonna last,” Steve whines, hips jerking up when Peter kneads his tongue right under his swollen head. The younger boy mewls happily around the dick in his mouth, drool slipping out the side of his mouth.

“Peter-fuck, I-I’m cumming,” Steve grunts before shooting his load down Peter’s throat. His boyfriend swallows his release with enthusiasm. “I literally have never cum that hard.”

Peter snickers and tucks Steve’s flaccid cock back into his boxers. He presses a kiss to the blonde’s knee before clambering back onto the couch. Steve kicks his jeans off of he legs, leaving him in his boxers and shirt.

“I love you,” Peter coos, pressing his lips to Steve’s once more. The older boy can taste himself on Peter, and the reminder makes his spent cock twitch. He cups Peter’s soft cheeks in his hands, pulling him closer.

“D’ya think you can get hard again? I want you to fuck me,” Peter pants, grinding his hips down again.

“Baby,” Steve rumbles against the younger’s lips. “You make me hard without even trying. But-“

The blonde shuts his mouth, embarrassed. Peter nudges his nose against Steve’s jaw.

“Talk to me, babe,” He says softly, toying with the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt.

“I just don’t know what I’m doing. I want to make you feel good,” Steve croaks. Peter gives him a sympathetic look.

“I can teach you! Trust me, Steve, you’ll make me feel so fucking good.”

So, that’s how they end up sprawled out on Peter’s twin bed completely naked. Peter has his pale legs spread and two fingers shoved inside of him. His cock is so cute, the small thing flushed a pretty pink and leaking against his stomach.

“I swear to god, I’m going to cum before you even put your dick in me,” Peter whines, soft pants coming out of his lips. Steve slowly strokes his own rock-hard cock, his eyelids heavy as he gazed at Peter.

“Me too, baby,” Steve rumbles, wetting his dry lips. Peter removes his fingers from his dripping hole before shuffling to the side of the bed, digging for something in his nightstand. Steve’s eyes are glued to his cock, bobbing in the air from his movement.

“Here. I’ll put it on for you,” Peter says, a condom and a bottle of lube emerging from the drawer. Steve blushes, embarrassed. He should be able to put on a condom himself, but he doesn’t actually know how. Peter clambers back over to him, his nimble fingers opening the metal packet. The condom is pink, which isn’t surprising considering it’s Peter. The brunette pinches the tip of the rubber, places it on Steve’s cock, and rolls it down the aching shaft.

“_Peter_,” Steve groans, his chest heaving. The younger boy winks and drips lube onto his fingers, rubbing a generous amount onto Steve’s cock. The blonde moans loudly; the small amount of pressure a relief.

“Lay down babe,” Peter purrs, pushing his small hand against Steve’s broad chest. The older boy knits his brows in confusion. Peter rolls his doe-eyes, but gives him a peck on the cheek.

“I’m going to ride you.”

That’s all the explaining Steve needs. He obeys, making sure to get comfortable. Peter grins and straddles Steve, grabbing his cock and guiding the tip to his hole. He slowly sinks down, and-

It’s the best thing Steve’s ever felt.

“Peter! Fuck!” He shouts, hands flying to the smaller boy’s waist. Peter wiggles his hips, a high pitched moan escaping his lips. Steve can feel Peter clench around him.

“Shit, Stevie, you’re _huge_,” Peter moans, his nails scraping against Steve’s chest. With shaky legs, the boy starts to bounce up and down. It feels even better when he’s moving, his hole tight and wet and hot and perfect. Steve is moaning and groaning like crazy, which is expected when something feels this fucking _good_. Peter’s cock is literally dripping onto Steve’s stomach.

He’ll never be able to get off by his hand now.

“Peter, I’m gonna cum,” Steve chokes out, gripping the boy’s soft skin so hard that it’ll probably bruise. This spurs Peter’s enthusiasm, and he rides harder than before. Steve can feel his balls draw up close, and the trigger is when Peter purposely clenches down on him tight.

Steve spills his release into this condom, moans and expletives slipping out of his mouth.

“Steve, touch my cock,” Peter pleads, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Steve does as he’s told, and with a shriek, Peter spurts his cum onto the older boy’s chest.

They take a few moments catching their breath, taking care of the used condom and whatnot. Peter collapses into Steve’s big arms, his eyes droopy.

“So,” He slurs, “Do you think you’re up for round two?”

Steve’s cock twitches, and he grins.


	42. winterspider: caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> summary: peter says he’s sick, so bucky goes to check on his best friend.
> 
> warnings: high school, abo dynamics, dubcon

_bucky: hey i’m here at your apartment will you let me in?_

_bucky: i know you said you didn’t want me to come over_

_bucky: but i’m worried_

Bucky looks up from his cracked phone screen and at Peter’s apartment building. He hasn’t even read the messages since early this morning, which has been bugging Bucky all day. He half wants to turn around and go home, since Peter told him not to come over. But his aunt isn’t home, and what if something bad happened? Like his appendix burst or he fell and hit his head?

Bucky tucks his phone in the pocket of his leather jacket and heads to the front door.

He’s been to Peter’s more times than he can count. He’s been up the flights of stairs, he’s slipped the spare key from under their welcome mat plenty of times. So why does he feel so nervous? Probably because Peter explicitly asked him not to come over.

Probably.

The first thing that hits him when he opens the door is the smell. It smells like Peter’s usual flowery scent, but 100 times more potent. His throat feels thick as he breathes in the mouth-watering aroma of his best friend.

_Best friend, Bucky. Nothing more_, he thinks, silently cursing himself. The door shuts behind him with a soft click. The living room and kitchen look mostly untouched, with no sign of Peter.

“Pete?” Bucky calls out, hoping for an answer from the boy. But he gets nothing. Bucky frowns and slowly rounds the corner to go to Peter’s room. As he walks down the hall, he catches a soft whimper from Peter’s room. Nerves bubble in his stomach when he reaches his door. A few more whimpers escape the crack between the door and the frame, as well as-

A moan?

Wow, Bucky does _not_ have the braincell today.

Of course Peter’s in heat. Of course he is. And of course Bucky is the idiot who decided to come over. He knows he should leave without a trace. The good, best-friend thing to do would be just to leave. His hand cautiously hovers over the old door handle.

He pushes open the door.

The sight on the other side is one that he’ll never forget.

Peter is on his hands and knees in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. His eyes are squeezed shut in pleasure, and his pink lips are parted. He’s completely naked, miles of flushed, pale skin on display. One hand is behind him, thrusting a baby blue knotting dildo in and out of his loose hole. Fresh, glistening slick coats the inside of his thighs. His cock bobs in the air, leaking precum all over his nest.

“Fuck.”

Peter freezes and his eyes fly open.

“Bucky!” He shrieks, yanking the toy out of him and scrambling for a blanket. Bucky snaps out of his trance and averts his eyes respectfully.

“Shit, Peter, I’m _so_ sorry,” He babbles, guilt washing over him. He stares directly at the hardwood floor, his stomach in knots. There’s no way he’ll be able to fix this. Over the heartbeat in his ears, Peter speaks.

“Bucky? You can look now.”

Bucky looks up, nervously shifting on his feet. Peter stares at him with his big, doe eyes, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. His chestnut curls are messy and his face is on fire.

“_It hurts_,” Peter croaks, tears nearly pricking the corners of his eyes. The crack in his voice hurts Bucky’s heart. He absolutely hates when Peter’s in pain, whether it’s a scraped knee or a broken arm.

“Pete,” Bucky breathes, shutting the door behind him and walking forward. He stands at the edge of Peter’s nest awkwardly.

“Sit down,” Peter says softly. Bucky lowers himself onto the blankets carefully. He can feel the heat radiating off of Peter, the poor thing.

“I’m really sorry,” Bucky says again, resting his hands in his laps. Peter laughs tiredly, nudging the older boy with his shoulder.

“Don’t be,” He mumbles, bashfully looking at Bucky through his long lashes. He leans closer and sniffs. “Y-You smell _really_ good.”

Bucky clenches his jaw.

“Peter,” He says quietly, heart in his throat.

Peter leans in and kisses him.

It takes him by surprise and takes his breath away. He’s been waiting for this moment since 7th grade gym class. (Thankfully, he’s more experienced now.)

Bucky leans into the kiss, cupping Peter’s squishy cheek in his hand. He’s so soft, like a flower petal or a-well, Bucky doesn’t really know. All he knows is he’s kissing Peter Parker.

The omega drops the blanket off of his shoulders and wraps his arms around Bucky’s torso. Bucky takes Peter’s bottom lip between his teeth, earning a soft groan from the boy. The alpha rests his free hand on the curve of Peter’s hip.

They sit there kissing for a little bit before Bucky moves from his lips to his neck.

“Buck,” Peter moans, tilting his head to give him more access. Bucky grazes his teeth over Peter’s swollen mating gland. The younger boy yelps and jerks his hips forward.

“I’ve been waiting 5 years to do that,” Bucky groans against Peter’s warm skin. The omega pulls at the hem of his jacket.

“Clothes off,” He orders, trying to pull Bucky’s jacket off his body. The alpha pulls away, quickly shucking off his jacket and yanking his shirt over his head. Peter looks at him with the biggest eyes ever.

“_Alpha_,” He whispers, which sends Bucky into a frenzy.

He rushes forward and presses his lips to Peter’s again. The boy squeaks, but kisses back, lacing his fingers through Bucky’s newly cut hair. The alpha kisses Peter like he wants to drink him in.

“Bucky, take your pants off,” Peter groans, throwing the knit blanket off his lap. Bucky immediately gets distracted by Peter’s tiny cock. It’s so pretty, the tip flushed a sweet pink and so small it could fit in Bucky’s palm.

“Come on,” Peter urges, grinding his cock down onto the pillows and blankets. Bucky shakily unties the laces of his combat boots, kicking them off and removing his socks, pants, and boxers. His rock-hard cock hits his abs with a wet slap. Peter moans at the sight of it, seemingly clutching the sheet beneath him for patience.

“Do you have condoms in here, doll?” He asks, stifling a smirk at how Peter’s gazes at the alpha’s dick.

“In my nightstand,” Peter tells him eagerly, jerking his cock slowly. Bucky stands up and stumbles over to the drawer, grabbing the condom hurriedly. He rips open the wrapper and rolls the rubber onto his aching dick, groaning at the slight relief. When he turns back around, his breath catches in his throat.

Peter is back on his hands and knees, ass sticking out in the air, _presenting_ for Bucky.

A low growl erupts in the older boy’s throat at the sight, as well as the smell of their pheromones mixing together in the air.

“Fucking hell, look at you,” He rumbles, falling to his knees right behind the boy. Peter whines and pushes his ass backwards, giving Bucky the most perfect view of his tight, wet hole. The older boy runs his thumb along the rim of it, snorting when he sees the omega’s cock jump from underneath him.

Bucky can’t take it anymore.

He presses the thick tip of his dick into Peter’s hole, both boys groaning at the sensation. Bucky grips Peter’s hips with his hand as he slowly sinks in all the way, his balls pressed close to the younger’s ass. He’s so fucking tight and wet and perfect.

“Alpha, please fuck me,” Peter asks so sweetly.

How could Bucky ever deny that?

The alpha sets a brutal pace, the sound of their moans and the slap of skin filling the small room. Peter clenches deliciously around his hard cock, so much that his knot already starts to swell. The omega’s own cock is twitching while he’s letting out soft mewls of pleasure and punched-out breaths.

“Oh fuck, alpha,” Peter yelps between huffs, his body nearly going limp from pleasure. A quiet ‘omega’ leaves Bucky’s lips. “I-I can feel your knot.”

And, yeah, Bucky can feel it too. It’s starting to catch on the rim of Peter’s hole, sending extra spikes of pleasure up the alpha’s cock.

“I wanna cum on your knot,” Peter moans, back arching as Bucky speeds up his thrusts. He has to adjust his footing “Stuff my full of your cum, alpha. Knot me.”

Peter’s babbling is what makes Bucky lose it. With one final thrust, his knot slips into place he cums with a warbled groan, filling the condom up quickly. Peter screams when the older boy takes his small cock in hand, and after a couple of strokes, he’s cumming too. The omega pulses around his sensitive knot, pulling a muffled curse from Bucky’s lips.

“Feelin’ better, baby?” He asks when they both catch their breath. Peter laughs softly and nods. He seems like he could fall asleep any second, so Bucky maneuvers them into a spooning position in the nest. His knot won’t go down for a while, so he wants to make sure Peter’s as comfortable as possible.

“Much,” The younger boy sighs, letting Bucky wrap his arm around his torso. The alpha presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “You know, I think Tony has a bet going.”

“On what?” Bucky chuckles, running his fingers through Peter’s sweaty curls. He still smells so good, like flowers and sex and Bucky.

“Us, dumbass,” Peter snorts, his voice slightly muffled from the pillow. Bucky tucks his face in the crook of the boy’s neck.

“Yeah, us. So-um, what about us?” He asks, biting his lip nervously.

“Hush. I like you, okay?” Peter says softly, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “I’m exhausted. Let’s sleep, then fuck again, and then talk.”

Bucky just chuckles softly. He knows omegas can get super cranky during heat.

“Whatever you say, doll face. Get some rest.”

***

May finds them curled up in the nest when she gets home.


	43. sambucky-fuck captain america

_Clang._

Bucky looks up from his book at the red, white, and blue metal shield that is loudly spinning on the hardwood floor. It eventually stops after a few moments, coming to a halt with a thud.

Oh, and there’s Sam.

Sam, fully dressed in his perfectly tailored Cap suit. Sam, his face hard like stone and his body tense.

Neither of them say anything while he slams the door behind him. Bucky flinches a bit but stays still nonetheless as Sam slowly crosses the room. He stops in front of the worn leather couch that Bucky’s curled up on, turning to look at the mantle. Only a few pictures are perched above the fireplace. One of the pair all dressed up for an honorary gala, one of Sam from his first appearance as Cap, and one of Sam and Riley during their first tour in Iraq.

“They all hate me.”

Bucky blinks. Once. Twice. He almost asks Sam to repeat himself because he was too caught up in the great view of ass he has from the couch.

“Did you hit your head?” Bucky asks jokingly, tucking his bookmark between the yellowed pages of his original copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Sam sighs and flops down onto the couch with a huff. Bucky scoots over so his side is pressed against Sam’s.

“They fuckin’ hate me, Buck.” He breathes, staring at the old brick fireplace, a clouded look in his eyes. “Who the _fuck_ protests outside of SHIELD?”

Sam turns his head so he can look at Bucky. The thing about Sam is that he’s not really a crier. He channels his sadness and frustration through cold silence. But Bucky swears he can see tears at the corner of the younger man’s deep brown eyes.

“Sammy,” Bucky says softly, resting his real hand on Sam’s thigh. “Do you really think that?”

Sam rubs his face with his hands, exasperated.

“They had signs. ’Not My Cap’ and ‘Fuck Captain America.’”

Bucky can’t help but snort.

“_Fuck Captain America?_ How do they know my favorite pastime?” He quips, nudging Sam’s quite muscular shoulder. That, thankfully, makes Sam laugh a bit. Bucky leans over and nuzzles his face in the crook of Sam’s neck. He smells like sweat and his Guess cologne, which makes Bucky oddly horny.

“Who cares what they think?” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around Sam’s broad torso, encouraging him to hug back. The other man rests his chin on the top of Bucky’s head. “There’s 7 billion people on this Earth. A couple of protesters mean nothing. They can shove it up their ass.”

Sam chuckles deeply and nudges Bucky’s head off his shoulder. Their faces are so close that the older man can feel his breath on his lips, so the only logical thing to do is to close the gap.

The kiss is soft and tender, a gentle caress that sends warmth through Bucky’s body. He moves his hands up Sam’s expansive chest, humming happily as he feels the thick muscle underneath the suit. Sam slips one hand behind Bucky’s neck, pulling the man closer. Bucky teasingly nips at Sam’s bottom lip as the kiss becomes more heated.

“Fuck, my back hurts,” Bucky groans when he pulls away for air. Sam snorts as the older man climbs on top of him, straddling his waist.

“You’re old, that’s why,” Sam retorts before yanking Bucky in by the collar. The brunette moans and cups Sam’s cheeks in his hands. He can feel the growing outline of Sam’s thick cock pressing against his own.

“_Sammy_,” Bucky moans softly as Sam drags his lips down the other man’s neck. His neatly trimmed beard feels absolutely heavenly against Bucky’s sensitive skin. Sam moves his big hands to Bucky’s waist, slipping them under his thin blue shirt. The skin-on-skin contact makes the older man’s hips jerk upwards.

“The things you do to me, Buck.” Sam growls, placing sloppy kisses on Bucky’s bearded cheek. “Get up. I’m going to get lube.”

The simple sentence makes heat coil in Bucky’s stomach. He clambers off of Sam, letting the man stand up. Bucky’s mouth goes dry when he sees the very obvious outline of Sam’s hard cock in his pants. The brunette palms himself through his jeans as Sam’s disappears into their bedroom. The heavy clunk of the younger man’s combat boots sends jolts of arousal up Bucky’s spine.

“Take your pants off,” Sam orders in his ‘Captain voice’ when he renters the room. Bucky is quick to obey, fumbling with his belt and kicking off his jeans. His hard cock drools in his boxers, making a small wet spot appear on the soft material.

“Boxers too, baby,” Sam grumbles as his plops back down on the couch, legs spread. Bucky whines, high in his throat, and pulls his boxers all the way off. His aching cock wetly slaps against his toned abs.

“Fuck, look at you,” Sam coos, leisurely stroking his own hard dick through his work pants. He tosses the small (almost empty) bottle of lube to the other man. “Finger yourself.”

Bucky moans and his cock twitches at the instruction. With shaky hands, he uncaps the bottle and pours the substance on his metal fingers. They’ll be a bitch to clean later, but it’s worth it.

“C-Can’t you do it?” Bucky retorts, voices hitching as he grazes his slippery fingers over the inside of his thigh.

“I’ve had a long day. You getting lazy?” Sam grunts, his nimble fingers fiddling with the zipper of his pants. Bucky presses one finger against his semi-relaxed hole, hissing at the pleasureful intrusion. Sam pulls his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh, gripping his thick cock by the base. Bucky’s mouth waters at the sight of Sam, completely dressed in his Cap suit, with his delicious cock in hand.

“_Sam_,” Bucky breathes, slowly pumping one finger in and out of his now-wet hole. His cock leaks against his stomach, spurting drops of precum when he passes over his prostate. Sam swallows thickly and pumps his cock lazily, watching Bucky with lust filled eyes.

Bucky whines and rests his head against the couch as he adds another metal finger. Sam grunts and runs his thumb over his leaking slit.

“You’re a fucking sight, baby. Get yourself stretched, I need to get my cock in you,” He orders, voice hoarse. For relief, Bucky takes his aching dick in his free hand. He slowly jacks his cock while he twists his fingers inside of himself, trying to get as loose as possible.

“Sammy, want your cock,” Bucky cries, trying to give Sam his best puppy-dog eyes. A bead of precum seeps out of Sam’s slit in response.

“Get over here, then.”

Bucky quickly takes his fingers out of himself and clambers over to Sam. The younger man grasps the bottle of lube and pours some over his aching cock, the slick sounds sending a jolt of arousal up Bucky’s own hard dick.

Bucky straddles Sam’s muscular thighs, lifting himself up so that the man can slip the thick head of his cock against his hole.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky moans as he sinks down onto Sam’s cock. The darker man squeezes his eyes shut and groans deeply.

“Bucky, _holy shit_,” He hisses, gripping the older man’s ass in his calloused hands. Bucky whines as his cock brushes against the rough material of Sam’s suit. His soaked hole squeezes around the large intrusion.

“You’re so tight, honey,” Sam grumbles, teasingly smacking Bucky’s left cheek. The brunette’s cock jumps.

“Feels s’good,” He slurs, resting his flushed face on Sam’s broad shoulder. He starts to grind down to the best of his ability, and Sam rolls his hips up too.

“God damn,” Sam growls, wrapping one arm around Bucky’s torso and gripping his hair with the other. Their cozy living room is filled with the sounds of Sam’s cock thrusting in and out of Bucky’s sloppy hole. His member drags against Bucky’s prostate, which makes the older man’s cock spurt precum onto Sam’s suit.

“I-I’m close,” Bucky moans, lifting his head and messily pressing his lips to his lover’s. Sam kisses back hungrily, speeding up the thrusts of his hips. With his calloused hand, Sam quickly jerks Bucky’s slick cock.

“Sam!” Bucky cries as his orgasm washes over him. Thick ropes of cum gush from his cock, ruining the front of Sam’s suit. The younger man is quick to follow, his massive cock twitching before he cums deep inside of Bucky. They both take a few moments to catch their breath.

“I love you, Captain,” Bucky breathes, reaching up with shaky hands and cupping Sam’s face.

“I love you too, Buck,” He responds, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose. “So, round two in the shower?

Bucky smirks.

“You’re on.”


	44. starker-the boy from the physics section

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is my @starker-valentines gift for @mr-starkerbutgay! they asked for the first time tony and peter see each other and fall in love. featuring nerdy!tony and popular!peter in a college au!

Tony must have died and gone to heaven.

There’s no way someone that beautiful could be _here_, at the drab Barker Library by the physics section. He’s all alone, skimming through the thick books, binders tucked under his arm. His chestnut curls are held back by a red bandana tied into a bow, pairing well with his jean jacket that’s covered in patches and pins.

“Holy shit, who is he?” Tony whispers to Steve, nudging the blonde with his elbow. Steve looks up from his textbook and squints at Tony in confusion.

“Who?” The man says, way too loudly for a library. The beautiful boy turns around, face lighting up in a smile. Tony can feel his face heat up in embarrassment.

“Oh Steve, thank god you’re here,” The boy exclaims, and _fuck_, he’s coming right over to their table. Tony nervously pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. The boy is even prettier up close, his features incredibly soft. Light freckles dust his button nose and plump cheeks. His eyes are the most beautiful round pools of glistening honey. Tony happily notes the little rainbow flag patch on his shoulder.

“Hey, Peter, what’s up?” Steve asks and Tony has _no_ idea how he can be so nonchalant.

“Do you have a second? I really need someone to explain this one equation to me.” He asks, snapping the pink bubblegum that sits between his strawberry colored lips. Steve gives him a sympathetic look.

“I actually have a class in,” He looks at his watch. “20 minutes, so I have to get going. But Tony here can teach you! He knows everything.”

Tony widens his eyes and looks at Steve.

He winks.

“Oh, thank you so much!” Peter squeals, letting Steve gather his stuff before slipping into the old cushioned chair. He puts his books down before outstretching his hand.

“I’m Peter,” He introduces, and Tony shakily reaches out to shake his hand. God, he’s so sweaty. Peter must think he’s disgusting.

“T-Tony,” He stammers, anxiously tapping his mechanical pencil on the table. Peter smiles and opens his purple binder, taking out a printed version of the professor’s PowerPoint.

“I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this problem,” He says, turning to a certain page in the packet before turning it around to Tony.

Cu + HNO3 -> Cu(NO3)2 + NO + H2O

“Oh, that’s easy,” Tony says, scribbling down the answer. “You have to make sure to put parentheses around the polyatomic ions.”

Peter nods and worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Right. How did you get the eight?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Tony takes his time explaining each step he took to get the answer. Peter listens intently, following along with Tony’s instructions.

“Thank you so much, Tony. I get it now.”

Tony smiles at the brunette, continuing to nervously bounce his leg.

“What are you studying here?” Peter asks, fiddling with the friendship bracelet that peeks out of his jacket sleeve.

“I’m double majoring in engineering and physics,” Tony tells him. Peter’s eyes widen in surprise. “What about you?”

“Biochemical engineering. That’s really impressive that you’re double-majoring, though.” He tells Tony, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Why Tony finds his choice of study so hot, nobody knows.

“Biochem is real-really cool,” Tony stammers, mentally kicking himself for fucking up the simple task of speaking. If Peter notices, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah. I love it,” He laughs, a slight blush creeping over his cheek. Tony gets caught up in the gentle beauty of the boy. “Do you mind if I could get your number? Just in case I have any other questions.”

Tony’s brain practically short-circuits.

“Yeah, you, uh, want my number?” He blabbers, eyes wide from behind his ridiculously thick lenses. Peter throws his head back and laughs. It’s a bright, thin sound, and Tony wants to hear it all the fucking time.

“Yes! You silly goose, that’s what I said.”

_Silly goose._

“Oh, okay,” Tony says, a bit breathless. Peter taps on his phone and gives it to the other boy. A blank contact file stares back at him, and Tony shakily types in his name and number. He accidentally types “Tony Stank,” but fixes it with an embarrassed smile.

“Perfect!” Peter exclaims, slipping his phone into his pocket and gathering his stuff. He stands up and slings his olive messenger bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. S-see you around.”

***

“Pete, I think you’re lovesick.”

Peter scoffs, throwing his decorative pillow at Harry. The other boy makes a sour face.

“Am _not_,” Peter whines, continuing to scroll through Tony’s Instagram profile.

Okay, maybe he’s a little lovesick.

“Just ask him out. It’s not that hard,” Harry snorts, typing away on his laptop.

“It is that hard,” Peter huffs, flipping over onto his stomach. On his phone screen, a picture of Tony stares back at him. He has his arm slung around a dark-skinned man, his glasses crooked as he smiles wide. Peter feels his stomach twist.

Oh god.

***

Tony doesn’t want to be here.

Bars are not his thing.

And even though it’s a group get together for MIT’s Robotics Squad, he’d rather be curled up in his dorm watching old movies under his blankets.

“Jeez, Tony, loosen up a little,” Rhodey says, poorly made margarita in his hand. Tony rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his water.

“Rhodes,” Tony groans, shooting his friend a look. Rhodey just shrugs. The young woman next to him brushes her arm against his and he grimaces. Way too close for comfort.

“Oh, Tony!”

Both boys turn around and Tony’s heart jumps to his throat. There, standing in the throng of sweaty college students, is Peter.

His pearly white smile is stretched wide, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. A MIT Robotics Squad t-shirt is loosely draped over his small frame and black skinny jeans hug his long legs.

“Pete, h-hey,” He stammers nervously, nearly knocking his sweating glass of water over. Rhodey looks at him with a smirk.

“I’m going to find Jane,” He tells his friend, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away.

“Can I sit here?” Peter asks sweetly, trying to be heard over the voices of the patrons in the bar.

“Of course, you don’t need to ask,” Tony says, taking a sip of his water. His hand shakes slightly. Peter slips into the worn bar stool, his feet barely grazing the floor.

“Are you on the robotics team? We have a get-together thing tonight,” The brunette rambles, brushing a fluffy curl out of his face.

Tony really wants to reach over and do it for him.

“Yeah, um, I’m joining this year,” He tells the other, rubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans. Peter’s face practically lights up.

“That’s awesome! It’s so much fun, you’re going to have a blast,” He tells Tony, then reaches into his pocket for his wallet. Before he can call the bartender over, Tony stops him.

“I’ll get you a drink. What do you want?” He asks, pulling out his own wallet that’s only slightlyfalling apart. Peter blinks and blushes.

“Um, I’m not much of an alcohol person. Can I have a Coke?”

Tony nods and beckons the bartender over, ordering Peter’s drink. He pays and hands it to the younger boy.

“Thank you so much, Tony,” Peter sings, eagerly drinking the fizzy liquid. His arm brushes against Tony’s slightly, his skin soft and supple. The boy sways his legs happily as he sips his drink. Tony awkwardly drinks his water, stealing quick glances at the boy next to him. Peter ends up finishing his drink quickly, eyeing the crowd of dancing patrons.

“Tony? Do you want to come dance with me?”

Tony feels his heart stop in his chest and his eyes grow wide.

“I-I can’t dance,” He stammers, nervously chewing at his bottom lip. Peter, for some fucking reason, smiles.

“Everyone can dance, silly!” He squeaks, jumping up off of the stool and taking Tony’s hand in his. Like a lost puppy, Tony follows after Peter. He pulls him through the crowd of people, Tony’s heart beating to the rhythm of the music. They find a semi-open spot and Peter spins around, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck.

Even though he drank water, the feeling of Peter’s body pressed close to his has his mouth dry.

“Just move to the music,” Peter says, swaying his hips back and forth. Tony gently rests his hands on the boy’s slim waist, unsure if he’s doing the right thing. He tries to move to the music too, and Peter just giggles.

“See, you can dance,” He murmurs against the shell of Tony’s ear. He flushes, the feeling of Peter’s breath against his skin sending shivers down his spine.

“I g-guess,” Tony stutters, stomach-churning as Peter tangles his fingers in Tony’s thick, brown hair. He’s so close, closer than Tony’s ever gotten to a pretty boy like him. Peter’s so close that he can see the tiny freckles that dot his skin, can feel his breath hit his lips. The sounds of the bar seem muffled to Tony, the only thing he can focus on being the boy in front of him.

“Do you want to come back to my dorm? My roommate is out tonight.”

Tony widens his eyes and his mouth gapes. He wants to say no, let his anxiety get the best of him. But he could never, ever, deny the angel in front of him anything.

“I-Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”

Under the dim light of the room, Peter grins.


	45. stucky-fingering in the bathroom

“Stevie, ah-we’re gonna get _caught_.”

Steve ignores the brunette, nibbling on the soft skin underneath his jaw. Bucky moans softly, tilting his head to the side.

“If you’re so worried about getting caught, why were you flirting with half of the guests?” Steve asks, earning only a soft whine in response. The blonde raises his eyebrows, unhappy with the answer. Bucky’s eyes go wide and he parts his lips to answer.

“I’m sorry, sir!” He whisper-shouts, hips bucking up slightly. Steve can feel the outline of the man’s hard cock against his thigh. “I-I just know how hot you get when you’re jealous.”

Steve groans quietly, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder and breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Naughty, naughty boy,” Steve growls, pressing his lips against the shell of Bucky’s ear. He quickly untucks Bucky’s crisp black dress shirt from the front of his slacks. He teasingly squeezes the large bulge that graces the front of Bucky’s slacks, making the man moan and buck his hips up.

“Don’t want to make to much noise, now do we?” Steve hums as he carefully undos Bucky’s tie, letting the black fabric drape around his neck. Bucky looks at him with big, pleading eyes. Steve ignores him, taking his sweet time unbuttoning the other man’s shirt. He rests his hand on the defined abs that lie underneath. He slides his hand up and gently pinches Bucky’s left nipple.

“_Captain_,” He moans, head tilting to the side as he grips onto the ceramic countertop. Pleased, Steve quickly takes off Bucky’s belt and pulls his slacks down to his thighs. There’s a small wet spot on the front of his briefs where the tip of his cock rests.

“Already making such a mess,” Steve scolds, running the pad of his thumb over Bucky’s sensitive head. The brunette moans loudly, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Stevie, _please_,” Bucky croaks, pretty pink lips parted, short breaths falling from them. The blonde pulls down Bucky’s underwear, grunting at the soft smack of his cock against his abs.

“Sit on the toilet, baby,” Steve orders, gesturing to the closed toilet next to them. Bucky shuffles over and sits down. It might not be the classiest space, but seeing Bucky flushed and so eager is worth it. Steve reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a small travel packet of lube. He chuckles lowly at how Bucky’s cock jumps while he tears open the packet.

“You’re going to have to raise your legs, doll. I need to see that pretty hole of yours.”

Bucky whines and does as he’s told, resting one leg on the edge of the tub and the other on the counter. His shaved hole tenses as his cock twitches again.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Steve growls, baby blues blown wide in uncontrollable lust. Bucky whines as the blonde coats his two fingers in lube after rolling his sleeves up. He squats down in front of his boyfriend, pressing one finger against his exposed hole. Bucky shouts and squirms, but eventually relaxes enough so that Steve can slip his index finger inside.

“Would you look at that,” He coos, arching his finger in a way that has Bucky moaning. “You’re so greedy, ain’tcha?”

“O-Only for you, sir,” Bucky stammers, a warbled moan erupting from his throat as Steve prods his second finger at his loosening hole. He’s able to work up to 3 fingers, adding in his ring finger before gently pressing against the small gland inside of Bucky.

“Oh, fuck, _Captain_!” Bucky cries, pre-cum dripping from the flushed head of his cock. He gazes down at Steve through his long lashes, chest heaving. Steve places his free hand on the man’s thigh while he curves his fingers again. Bucky’s hips stutter and the thick muscle in his thigh tenses. Moans and whines fall from his lips as Steve continues the assault on his prostate.

A sharp knock on the door makes them both freeze.

“Hey man, what’s taking so long?” A deep voice asks from outside the door. Bucky’s cock jumps and his hole clenches down on Steve’s fingers. The blonde grins before continuing to move his fingers in and out. Bucky muffles a moan in his metal palm.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall. I advise you go there,” Steve informs him while using his other thumb to slightly rub the tip of Bucky’s cock.

“Ah, _fuck_,” Bucky moans as Steve massages his leaking cock.

“This is the only time you get to cum for a while,” Steve growls as he pumps the other man’s cock and thrusts his fingers in his hole. Bucky lets out a high-pitched whine, gripping onto the counter for dear life. Steve rubs his thumb against the sensitive spot underneath Bucky’s leaking head. The brunette squirms in his seat, grunting as Steve grazes his prostate.

“I’m close, sir, _please_ let me cum, _please_,” Bucky pleads, tears forming at the corner of his steel blue eyes. Steve moves both hands faster.

“Cum for me, Bucky.” He orders in his ‘captain voice’. Bucky cums with a shout, spilling his release all over Steve’s hand and his abs.

“Thank you sir, _thank you_,” He breathes, cock still twitching and leaking. Steve removes both of his hands as Bucky catches his breath.

“So messy, Buck.” The blonde chides, studying the white mess on his hand. Bucky whines and closes his legs, reaching for a paper towel to clean himself up. But, Steve grabs his thick wrist before he can.

“No, Bucky. You want to make a mess of yourself? Then you stay that way until we get home.”

“_Stevie_,” The brunette whimpers, cheeks burning in shame. Steve shoots him a warning glare, which shuts him up quick. Bucky awkwardly pulls up his underwear and pants before buttoning his shirt back up while Steve washes his hands.

“C’mere, I’ll help you up,” He says, grabbing Bucky by his hands and yanking him off the toilet. He stumbles a little, pressing into Steve’s side. He looks deliciously disheveled and fucked out.

“What do we say if someone asks what we were doing?” Bucky asks softly, the usual assassin-facade gone while he’s with Steve.

“Well, we tell them the truth. It’s not my fault that you’re a horny little slut.”

Steve opens the door.


	46. winterspidershield-dress blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> military boys

“_Sir_.”

Steve peers down at Peter through his long eyelashes. The younger nuzzles into the slacks covering the blonde’s thick thigh. He looks so fucking powerful, relaxing on the couch of their upscale hotel room, still dressed in his service uniform. Steve uses the tip of his Oxfords to nudge at Peter’s heavy balls, the boy’s cock twitching in response. He whines, the cock ring wrapped snugly around the base of his dick denying him any sort of relief. The corner of Steve’s pretty pink lips twitch, a mischievous twinkle in his baby blue eyes. He reaches down to cup Peter’s flushed cheek in his large hand, pressing his thumb against the boy’s sealed lips. He parts them, gladly letting Steve slip his thumb into his wet mouth.

“Jeez, you’d think I was the president or something!”

The door to the room slams shut, causing Peter to flinch slightly at the loud sound. In walks Bucky, tucking his phone into the pocket of his dress slacks. Peter moans around the finger in his mouth, drinking in the sight of _Sergeant Barnes_ all dressed up. He slows his pace when he spots Peter on the floor.

“Well, well. What happened to your pretty outfit, darlin’?” He drawls, referencing the perfectly tailored suit Peter had on earlier. The boy just whimpers as Steve removes his thumb from his mouth.

“Told him to take it off. Too many clothes for me.” The blonde chuckles, looking over at Bucky.

“_Captain. Sergeant_.” Peter pleads, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. A shadow falls over Bucky’s face, the smile dropping from his face.

“Already such a slut, ain’tcha?” He sneers, plopping down next to Steve on the couch. He gently squeezes the blonde’s hand before gripping the back of Peter’s neck.

“Sir, may I suck you off? Please, sir, I’ll be good.”

Bucky groans and quickly undoes his belt, pulling down his slacks and boxers enough to slip his half-hard cock out. Peter’s mouth waters at the sight of it, his head bobbing down to trace the vein that runs along the side of his cock with his tongue. Bucky mutters a curse and grips Peter’s chestnut curls. It’s obscene, the way his golden medals seem to pair well with his red-flushed cock. Peter gently sucks and laps at the slick head of Bucky’s cock, stroking the length of it with one hand. Steve’s belt jingles as he takes it off, dropping his slacks and boxers so they pool at his feet. Peter takes more of Bucky into his mouth, blindly reaching over into Steve’s lap. His hand meets the warm length of his cock, his palm swiping over the wet head before moving down to lazily pump it. Steve groans loudly, hand gripping onto Bucky’s bicep.

“I’ll never get tired of this mouth,” The man grunts, hips jumping slightly when Peter uses his free hand to fondle at his balls. He pulls away from Bucky’s cock with a slick sound, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.

“Over here, pretty boy. Buck’s had enough.” Steve orders. Bucky rolls his eyes but starts to move his hand over his dick. Peter shuffles over so he’s between Steve’s legs, pressing wet kisses to the velvet skin of the man’s length.

“_Captain_,” Peter breathes, whimpering at the way Steve’s cock twitches.

“Hands behind your back, baby,” Steve demands with a gravelly voice, a voice fit for a captain. Peter does just that, he’d be stupid not to and takes the blonde’s cock in his mouth.

“Shit,” Steve hisses, head lolling to the side as he reaches out to stroke Peter cheek. The boy hums around the thickness in his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he massages the sensitive spot under Steve’s leaking head with his tongue. A bit of drool slips out the side of Peter’s mouth.

“Makin’ a mess there, doll.” Bucky chuckles, reaching out to wipe the spit from the corner of his mouth. Steve yanks Peter’s head away from his cock by the hair.

“I want you bent over that chair, baby. I won’t ask again.”

Peter wastes no time scrambling off the floor, running around to the leather chair in front of them. Bucky laughs as Steve pulls his slacks back up.

Peter’s blood runs hot when he realizes that they’re keeping their uniforms on.

“_Sir_,” He whines, slowly grinding his aching cock against the cool material.

“I’m fucking him first.” Steve blurts out, eyes blown wide with lust.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” Bucky snaps, jaw clenching as he steals a glance at Peter. Steve walks to the side of the chair, leaning in to give the boy a sloppy kiss. Peter’s lips are still slippery from spit, molding with Steve’s in a way that has him aching for more.

“You get seconds then, Buck.” Steve quips, gazing down at Peter, only a ring of baby blue left in his eyes. Peter whimpers, lazily nipping at the older man’s neck. He grasps at Steve’s incredibly broad shoulders, trying not to smear spit all over his nice uniform.

“Buck, get the-“

“Already have it,” Bucky grumbles, appearing next to Steve and handing him a small bottle of lube. Peter moans, getting himself as comfortable as possible and sticking his ass out enticingly. Steve groans from behind him, one large hand settling on his waist, the other snapping the lube bottle open. A cold, thick finger probes at Peter’s hole, making his cock jump. The only sounds that fill the room are Peter’s whines, the heavy breathing of the two older men, and the slick sounds of Steve’s fingers going in and out of the boy. Tears fall from Peter’s eyes, frustrated that the ring around his cock denies him from any release.

“Think he’s ready for your cock, Stevie?” Bucky asks, tracing Peter’s arched spine with a calloused finger.

“Captain Rogers, please, need your cock,” Peter babbles, resting his arms on the back of the chair. Steve curses softly before nudging the tip of his bare cock against Peter’s slick hole. Slowly, he pushes inside. Peter’s eyes flutter shut as he’s overwhelmed with the pleasurable stretch. Steve grips Peter’s slim waist tightly, no doubt leaving bruises that make the boy’s mouth water.

“Cock hungry slut,” Steve growls before dragging his length in and out of Peter. He sets a brutal pace, clearly only worried about his orgasm. The younger can hear the sounds of Bucky jerking off behind them, which makes a bead of precum drip out of the tip of his own cock.

“Captain, _ah ah ah_,” Peter moans, blunt nails scratching at the leather of the chair. Steve grunts and huffs from above him, thrusts getting sloppier and shorter. He slams in all the way and Peter can _feel_ his cock twitch inside of him and fill him up with cum.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, medals clinking as he pulls himself out of Peter.

“Move over, Stevie.” Bucky laughs, kissing Peter on the shoulder. He reaches down and slips the cock ring off of Peter’s length. The boy whimpers, the brush of Bucky’s thick fingers against him giving him a burst of relief.

“Fuck me, Sergeant Barnes. _Please_,” Peter begs, letting Bucky push his head down with one hand and grip his ass with the other.

“Holy shit,” He grunts, slipping his cock into Peter’s loose hole easily. “You’re so _loose_.”

Peter whines at the feeling of Steve’s cum dripping down his shaky thighs. Bucky starts to fuck him hard, making a lot more noise than Steve did. The tip of his thick cock rubs against Peter’s prostate, making the boy writhe in pleasure.

“_Sergeant_,” Peter moans loudly, relishing in the sound of Bucky’s cock slipping in and out of him. The older man jerks Peter’s small cock rapidly, the younger’s vision turning white as he cums hard. Bucky makes one last groan as he empties his load inside of Peter, sucking a bruise into the boy’s neck.

Bucky slips out of Peter, the boy struggling to stand. He collapses into his boyfriend’s arms, tears filling his eyes as he’s carried to the couch.

“That was one hell of a congrats.” Steve chuckles, letting Peter clamber into his arms.

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”


	47. winterspidershield-heart in two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft

“Steve?”

The blonde looks up from his sketchbook, smiling softly at the sight in front of him. Peter is still wrapped in Bucky’s arms, his honey eyes squinting and brows furrowed. His almond curls are fluffy and wild, splayed out on the white pillow underneath his head.

“Yeah, baby?” Steve responds, glancing down at the picture on his page. The sketch captures what he saw moments before, a sleeping Peter with Bucky’s face buried in the crook of his neck. He’s stuck on trying to capture the streams of light coming in through the window.

“What time is it?” The boy mumbles sleepily, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand.

“It’s only 8.” Steve tells him, closing his sketchbook and placing it gently on the wooden table next to him. Peter smiles and closes his eyes, squeezing Bucky’s forearm. Steve’s heart tightens at the sight, because _god_ he’s so in love with the two it’s painful.

“Want more cuddles.” Peter grumbles, cheek smushed by the pillow. Steve chuckles softly and as quietly as he can climbs onto the island of white blankets and pillows. Peter reaches out happily, wrapping his lanky arms around the super soldier’s torso and pulling _tight_.

Steve hums, low in his chest and kisses Peter’s soft cheek. Bucky groans, pressing his face closer against the boy’s neck, metal plates on his arm moving ever so slightly. It makes Steve sad, how his arm is tense and never touching Peter fully.

“Too early,” Bucky grunts, pressing a few butterfly kisses to Peter’s neck.

“_James_,” Peter whines, stretching out his long legs like a cat. It still makes Steve’s heart tighten, how Peter is able to call Bucky by his first name without getting a scolding. Bucky’s eyes flutter open, blue grey orbs twinkling with happiness.

Steve is over the moon that he was able to get that twinkle back.

“Mornin’, sleepy head.” He coos, reaching out to brush one of Bucky’s stray locks behind his ear. The brunette just groans, closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

“Steve?” Peter asks groggily. He starts to pry himself out of Bucky’s grip, sitting up in the bed. Steve raises his eyebrows in question. “Can you make pancakes?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Steve responds, sitting up as well as Peter falls into his arms.

“With whipped cream?” Peter asks, pulling his ‘puppy dog eyes’ look. Steve chuckles and hoists the boy up closer to him.

“Of course, angel.” The blonde assures, climbing off the bed as Peter wraps his legs around Steve’s torso. The kid is light as a feather, since he is pretty tiny and Steve is ridiculously strong. Bucky flips onto his stomach, muscles flexing in his back. Steve can make out a muffled _“Wake me when they’re ready”_ as they head into the kitchen.

“Ouch, _Steve_, still sore from last night,” Peter hisses as the older man places him on one of the breakfast stools.

“Sorry, hon.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. The younger grips the white cloth of Steve’s shirt, pulling him in for an open-mouthed kiss.

Steve swears Peter always tastes like candy.

“Got any to spare?”

Peter pulls away and looks over Steve’s shoulder.

“James! I thought you’d be asleep.” He exclaims, lazily wrapping his arms around Steve.

Bucky smirks and makes his way over to the pair.

“Couldn’t sleep without either of you,” He mumbles, gripping the back of Steve’s blonde locks and kissing him softly. Steve’s heart melts like it always does when he feels Bucky’s scruff rub against his clean shaven face.

“_James_, wanna kiss,” Peter whines, tugging on Bucky’s bare arm. Bucky pulls away with a smile, turning to Peter.

“I’d never leave you without one, doll.” He hums, leaning down to softly kiss the younger boy. Bucky’s real thumb grazes over one of the hickeys on Peter’s neck. Peter pulls away as Bucky starts his assault on his neck, making the boy giggle. He looks at Steve with pleading eyes.

“Pancakes?”


End file.
